Lay Down the Salt Lines
by Rhino7
Summary: Sequel to AMNoM. Two years after the massacre, tempers are waning thin, patience is drawing short, and loyalties are being called into question. Someone is not who they say they are.
1. Interrogation

**Lay Down the Salt Lines**

**By Rhino7**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as is Corbin Franks and the Fractured Circle. **_**Ask Mercy Not of Me**_** takes place three years after the events of Kingdom Hearts II in my Alliance-verse and this story is set two years after that. **

**..:--X--:..**

**Chapter One: Interrogation**

"He was holed up in a cave in Land of Dragons, ma'am."

Tifa nodded, nibbling on the nail of her pinky finger.

"He offered no resistance when we arrested him. He hasn't spoken since we brought him in, except—"

Tifa looked sideways at the lieutenant standing next to her, "Except what?"

The lieutenant shifted from foot to foot, "Except that he didn't want to see the general."

Tifa kept a lax expression. The request would have been comical had she not herself seen the sheer terror on the prisoner's face. On the other side of the glass, inside the white interrogation room, the prisoner sat cuffed to the chair. He was rigid in his seat, arms locked together over the metal table that was bolted to the floor. It was hard to believe that trembling, pale, broken man had once been the leader of the biggest anti-Allied coalition and headed the most destructive attack on the Alliance since the end of the war. Maybe that's why he was so terrified.

Corbin Franks was his alias, or maybe he was arrogant enough to use his actual name. Beady, watery eyes set in sallow, sunken skin. His greasy blond hair had fallen out in a few patches, giving him a mangy look. He had the diminished appearance of a man who'd lost a lot of weight in a small amount of time. This shell of a man was responsible for all those deaths two years ago.

"Shall I contact the general?" The lieutenant asked.

Tifa watched Franks' legs twitch under the table. "No."

"Ma'am, the general ordered to be notified when Franks was taken into custody."

"I'm aware of that, Lieutenant. I want to make absolutely sure this is our man before we call in the big guns." Tifa unfolded her arms and leaned forward against the window pane.

"I already contacted the Princess of Heart, ma'am." The lieutenant informed.

Tifa dipped her head, "She deserves to know."

"A thousand pardons, ma'am, but weren't she and the general—"

"She won't tell him." Tifa cut him off. Kairi hadn't spoken a word to him since the massacre. This arrest wouldn't change that.

The door on the other end of the chamber flew open and banged against the wall and in walked the suites. Tifa saw them out of the corner of her eye and didn't turn her gaze toward them. The media parasites would get their hands on this soon enough. The Council didn't need these blood suckers to jump the gun too.

"Brigadier General Lockhart." His voice still commanded attention, even after all this.

Tifa pulled herself away from the glass, "Major General Leonhart." She acknowledged. "Why the formalities?" She muttered.

Leon squared his shoulders with hers, glaring through the glass at the prisoner, "Is it really him?"

Tifa tilted her head, "His prints match the ones from Radiant Garden, we took a blood sample and it matches too. If it's not him, I wanna know where the cloning technology came from."

Leon pursed his lips, "They told Kairi?"

Tifa nodded, "She's staying where she is. No good would come from her coming here."

Leon squinted, "So he's been hiding out in Land of Dragons?"

"In a cave to be exact. S'where they apprehended him." Tifa informed.

"Looks like he's been through Hell."

"He'll wish for Hell if the general gets a hold of him." Tifa grunted.

"Has he been—"

"No."

Leon exhaled heavily, "We're all in deep shit if he finds out before we tell him."

Tifa gritted her teeth, "Like we're not all in deep shit already." She straightened, "I'm going in."

Leon waved her off and took up her position of staring through the glass.

Tifa walked up to the steel door and slid her access card through the locking slot, punching in her four digit override code. A deep, satisfying click thudded through the door and the lock released with a soft hiss. She slipped her card back into her pocket and pulled the door open.

The interrogation chamber was empty save for Franks, who looked over at her sharply as she crossed the threshold and closed the door behind her. The lock latched back into place as the door clicked shut. Franks' expression visibly relaxed when he saw it was Tifa; rather, that it wasn't 'him'.

She approached the opposite side of the table and maintained a two meter distance from the accused. "For the record, state your name." She greeted.

The man eyed her steadily, warily, silently.

Tifa chewed the inside of her cheek and faced him completely, "For the record, state your name."

He appeared to have been stricken with lockjaw and only stared at her.

Tifa nodded curtly, "All right, fine." She reached into her back pocket and produced her cell phone, "I'll just make a call to the general's office. I'm sure he'll be able to get your name."

"Corbin Franks." The man muttered immediately. His voice was hoarse and sounded like gravel in a blender; it was also higher pitched than Tifa would have expected from a man his size.

"Corbin Franks." She repeated for clarification. "My name is Brigadier General Tifa Lockhart, but you knew that already?" She leaned forward, gripping her edge of the table and fixing him with one almond eye.

Franks remained impassive, but the involuntary twitching in his legs gave him away.

Tifa straightened, "Corbin Franks, do you know why you're here?"

Franks looked sideways at the glass windows on the walls. Leon and the suites were on the other side, but from inside this room, one could only see their own reflection in mirror.

"Look at me. I'm the one you have to worry about right now." Tifa snapped her fingers.

Franks looked back at her, "Yeah, right now."

Tifa swallowed and straightened, "Do you know why you are here?"

Franks looked down at his shackled hands before lifting his eyes to her, "I want a lawyer."

Tifa almost laughed at him, "What makes you think you get a lawyer?"

Franks gave a ghost of a smirk, but it didn't reach his eyes, "Your Alliance has to abide by its own rules, General."

"Brigadier General." Tifa corrected, "I wouldn't assume that kind of power from me if I were you."

A flash of fear lit up Franks' eyes for a brief moment, but just as quickly it was gone. Franks shifted, "Either way, your law requires that I have equal representation."

Tifa choked on the bad taste this guy left in her mouth, "True." She glanced over at the mirrored window and waved two fingers. "The Alliance has assigned you an impartial lawyer to represent you, but everyone here knows you don't need someone to defend you. You know what you did."

The door behind her hissed and clicked as it was unlocked and the lawyer was let in. Tifa withheld her surprise as she heard high heels clack on the tiled floor. She straightened and sent a sideways glance to the lawyer. Ms. Jane Porter herself from Deep Jungle. Tifa's gaze bored through the reflective glass of the interrogation room. Jane? Were they out of their minds?

"My name is Jane Porter. I'll be representing you in your case, Mr. Corbin Franks." Jane's voice was cold and hateful.

Franks took one look at her and sat back, "You've got to be kidding. She was in the building; she's not impartial."

Jane's lips were pursed so thin they were bloodless, "There are no truly impartial lawyers for your case, Mr. Franks. It is my highest misfortune to be sworn to equality for your sake."

Franks eyed her steadily for a moment before shifting his gaze back to Tifa, "All right, question away, Ms. Brigadier General."

Tifa drew a deep, steadying breath and exchanged a look with Jane. The poor woman was statue-still, her knuckles white around her upper arms. "We'll start with the charges against you. Corbin Franks, you are being held suspect of the murder of at least eleven people and the attempted murder of twenty others. You are accused of organizing the attack taking place on the sixteenth of September in the year 2008, two years previous to now, in which the bombing and destruction of the Headquarter Building of the Alliance of Kingdom Hearts in Radiant Garden resulted."

Franks licked his lips, "You were in that building too, weren't you?"

Tifa ignored the remark, "Furthermore, you are proven to have been and remain to be the leading power of the anti-Allied coalition known only as the Fractured Circle. You recruited and led countless Heartless, Nobodies, and turncoat humans from the Alliance to your cause. Do you refute any of these accusations?"

Franks rolled his neck, "Any advice from my lawyer?"

Jane answered tersely, "Answer the question."

Franks smirked dully, "What is this: good cop bad cop?"

Tifa hunched her shoulders, "Is that what you want?"

Franks' smirk faded and a shudder passed through his arms. "No." He muttered.

"I didn't think so." Tifa relaxed her shoulders, "Now, do you refute—"

Tifa's cell phone hummed against her thigh. Tifa cut off her question and looked down at the caller ID. Her pulse skipped and she looked at Franks.

"That your boyfriend?" Franks chuckled, "Oh, that's right, he was one of those eleven I wasted."

The muscles through Tifa's hands went taut but she remained emotionless, "No, it's the bad cop."

The blood fled from Franks' face along with all his color. Jane looked at Tifa quickly and glanced over at the mirrored glass. The phone vibrated again and Tifa picked up, holding the receiver to her ear.

"I can handle it from here, Brigadier General." The caller greeted softly.

Tifa looked over at the reflective glass. "Sir—" but the dial tone droned in her ear. She glanced sideways at Jane, "That's it then." She turned her back on Franks and headed for the door. Jane followed her.

"Wait! Wait, I need my lawyer present!" Franks pleaded.

Jane huffed and kept after Tifa.

"Don't leave me alone in here with him!" Franks begged.

Tifa knocked twice on the door and looked back at him. Jane shook her head as the door was opened by the guard on the other side. Tifa slid past him, leaving Jane in her wake as she stomped around the corner and back to where Leon and the suites were still watching through the glass.

"Who squealed?" She barked.

Leon continued to stare in at Franks, not acknowledging Tifa's demand. The suites watched her fume with a mixture of smugness and intimidation.

"Nobody called him." Leon answered after a moment.

Tifa clenched her fists, "Then why the Hell did he just call me and interrupt my interrogation?"

"Because the situation warranted it, Tifa." The answer came behind her.

Tifa turned curtly on her heel until she was facing the man head on. "General, I have this interrogation under control. There is no need for you to—"

He lifted a hand, silencing her, "Has he confirmed his identity?"

Tifa choked on an angry comeback and answered, "Corbin Franks."

The general inhaled slowly, keeping his hand up to control her speaking, "Has he confirmed his crimes?"

Tifa flexed her jaw, "I was just asking him when you—"

"You're relieved of this interrogation, Brigadier General." He said tersely.

He dropped his hand and turned toward the glass, molten fury burning in his eyes. Tifa took a dangerous step forward.

"Your involvement in this case threatens the equality of—"

"My involvement matches yours, Tifa." He glanced at her briefly, looking immediately over her shoulder at the suites. "Get out, all of you."

"General." One of the suites stood out from the others, "It is fully within our jurisdiction to be here and witness this interrogation. Even you cannot undermine the public's right to knowing this monster is in custody."

Leon straightened, finally tearing his eyes away from Franks, "You heard the general. Out."

Tifa dropped her gaze, letting her look wander to Franks in the interrogation room. Great, even Leon's edge was being dulled. The Alliance was all but shot to Hell, but somehow she'd always imagined Leon to be the last person to comply with the general.

The suites made indignant noises and the one who'd spoken, Mr. Smugface, begrudgingly rejoined his brothers, shuffling out of the room, leaving the three of them and Jane alone. As the door closed, Jane cleared her throat.

"We listed off the crimes and he didn't accept or deny his involvement." She offered, standing behind the general.

Without a word, he turned and brushed past her, sliding his own card through the slot and punching in the code for the door to unlock. Before the hiss of the door had finished, he'd pulled it open and strode inside, closing it and locking himself in with Franks.

"Now it all hits the fan." Jane muttered, moving around to stand beside Leon in front of the glass.

Tifa stifled a groan and faced the glass, bracing herself to watch it all unfold. "All right, but at the first sign of violence, we intervene."

"Sign of violence from Franks? Or the general?" Leon asked.

Tifa grunted in response.

Leon sighed, "He won't do anything like that, Tifa. He has too much self control, you know that."

"I know that. That's what scares me."

Upon the general's entrance to the interrogation room, Franks sat bolt upright, pressing himself as far back as he could against the chair, gaining those precious inches away from the man.

The general seemed to fill the room with an ominous, dominating air. Despite his slender frame and far from intimidating stature, he entered with the demeanor of an executioner wearing the mask of a kindly man. He was the perfect bad cop. The intensity of his cold eyes made him look far older than his twenty-three years.

The intercom buzzed to life as the general spoke first.

"Corbin Franks, yes?" His voice was calm, chillingly so.

Franks remained rigid in his chair, the whites of his eyes visible all around.

"Are you comfortable, Corbin Franks? From what I hear, you were living like quite the Neanderthal before you were apprehended, eh, Corbin Franks? Mr. Franks? Corbin?" The general spoke softly, the white light catching on the jagged scars that were chiseled into the side of his face.

With every question, Franks pressed himself harder and harder against the chair. He mumbled something incoherent over the intercom and the general leaned in another lethal inch.

"What was that? I didn't quite understand you, Corbin Franks." He asked.

Franks averted his eyes, "M'fine."

The general straightened, "Good, that's good. We wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable." He placed his palms down flat on the table top, "After all, that's what the Alliance promotes, right, Corbin Franks? Equality to all prisoners, even the lowest, thumb sucking, cold blooded, murderous scumbags. Right, Corbin Franks?"

Franks muttered a response and hunched in his chair.

"Ah, ah, ah." The general cupped Franks' jaw with one hand, bodily pulling him upright in the chair and forcing his head upward to meet his gaze. "Sit up straight and make eye contact, Corbin Franks. Life is all about first impressions, sitting hunched over and not making eye contact makes the person talking to you suspicious. Frankly, I'm unimpressed, Corbin Franks."

"I don't like where this is going." Tifa murmured, chewing on her nail again.

Jane glanced at her, but Leon kept his eyes on the scene.

Franks' was muttering something unintelligible to those outside the chamber. The general clasped his hands behind his back, nodding knowingly.

"Oh, I know. I know you're sorry, Corbin Franks. Everybody's always sorry, aren't they, Corbin Franks?" He shot a thin lipped smile, but it only made Franks cringe. "What exactly are you sorry for, Corbin Franks? Are you sorry for orchestrating the attack? Or for not killing all of us?"

Franks did not respond.

The general's smile widened, giving him a slightly mad look. "You've heard the age old phrase 'Don't wound what you can't kill'. Now, that's a pretty overused and cliché saying, if you ask me." He lifted a hand, revealing the recently-attached, mechanical prosthetic fingers of his right hand, "Although, it does make sense." He looked at Franks with a dangerous expression.

Tifa clenched her fists at her sides, "This isn't an interrogation; this is a threat session. Leon, stop this."

Leon shot Tifa a flat look, "The only way to stop him is to go in there and bodily drag him out of there. I'm not signing my own death warrant for that."

Tifa fumed, "You can't be serious."

Jane backed away from the window, "I can't be here anymore."

Tifa flexed the tension out of her hands, "Jane, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Jane shook her head, "No, it's not you. I can't defend Franks' case. I thought I could be the bigger person here, but I can't. The wound's too fresh."

Tifa mouthed soundlessly. Jane took several faster steps away from the window.

Leon nodded, "You're relieved."

Jane muttered a quick apology and gratitude before fleeing the room. Tifa sighed, running a callused hand over her good eye. Two years hadn't healed anything. Even Jane, who was normally very even tempered, couldn't stand to be around Franks. Franks was managing to turn even the meekest lambs in the Alliance in to ravenous lions. She gave a side long glance to Leon, wondering what Franks would turn the lions of the Alliance in to.

Back in the interrogation room, the general's expression had fallen lax again. "See, Corbin Franks, I happen to know for a fact," He pointed a finger at the prisoner, "that you were the mastermind behind the attack two years ago. I heard your voice on the radio and I saw your face on the video threat you broadcasted. You remember that broadcast? You remember what you said, Corbin Franks?" He drew himself up and furrowed his brow, " 'You have twenty-four hours to surrender all of your nuclear warcraft or we lay you to waste.' " He quoted, "Lay us to waste? What are you, medieval? Well, it doesn't matter. We sent you all of our nuclear warcraft, didn't we, Corbin Franks?"

It happened in a flash.

One second, the general was leaning over the table and Franks was cringing away from him. The next second, the general was on top of the table, Keyblade flashing in his left hand, the teeth of the sword pushing against the skin of Franks' neck just hard enough to depress the flesh.

Franks cried out, struggling against the shackles binding him to the chair in his terror to get away from the general and his Keyblade.

"That's enough!" Tifa pushed away from the wall, ready to barge into the interrogation room and end this ridiculous display.

"Brigadier General Lockhart." Leon snapped warningly.

Tifa slowed her stride and turned, "We cannot allow this to continue. He's a loose cannon. Damn it, Leon, the Alliance can't afford another war!"

Leon frowned, "I know, that's why—"

The general's voice, a low snarl now, interrupted over the intercom. "Don't you dare try to play the equality card here, you son of a bitch, unless you want to be set equal to dirt."

He straightened, towering now over Franks' trembling form, and withdrew his blade. The weapon diminished into the air and he kept his eyes drilling into Franks'.

"All right, all right, I did it." Franks lifted his hands as high as he could from the chair. His chest was heaving with panic and fear. "I organized it, I headed it, and I recruited them all to the Fractured Circle. What do you want from me?" He pleaded.

Tifa drew long strides as she hurried to the locked door, swiftly jamming her card into the slot and putting in the code. With a hiss and a click, the door unlocked. Tifa gripped the half ton door and pulled it toward her, hastening the opening process.

"General, that's enough." She snapped, pushing into the room.

The general threw an absentminded glance over his shoulder at her before withdrawing slightly from Franks, who deflated in his chair.

"Looks like the good cop is here to play nice now." The general said.

Tifa accepted the scalding look the general sent her as he moved away from Franks. Then, without warning, he spun back around, clenching a fist and smashing his knuckles directly into Franks' nose. Blood flew as the distinct crack of breaking bone alerted everyone to Franks' shattered nose.

Franks howled, thrashing in his bindings and trying to burrow his face into his shoulder. Tifa stood mortified, her neck growing hot in anger. The general followed through with the blow, drawing his arm back and watching Franks cower for a moment in concealed satisfaction.

"General, that is quite enough!" Tifa barked.

The general rolled his eyes and rounded on Franks, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him forward. He muttered a cure spell and instantly mended Franks' face, afterwards leaving only a trail of blood from Franks' nose as evidence of the attack.

"Good as new, Corbin Franks. I look forward to seeing you again soon." He pulled back with one long, lethal stare, and then pushed past Tifa on his way out, "He's all yours, Brigadier General." He pushed his shoulder against hers as he breezed by.

Tifa exhaled heavily and stepped forward to approach Franks, who was whimpering pathetically and squirming in his seat.

"Oh, and Lockhart?"

Tifa inwardly cringed and turned back to the general.

"Don't ever interrupt me during an interrogation again, understood?" He asked, gripping the door with one hand.

Tifa narrowed her eyes, "Understood, sir."

Sora nodded and disappeared from the chamber, letting the door swing closed after him on its own, leaving Tifa to deal with Franks.


	2. Walls

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as is Tanner. This chapter takes place simultaneously with the first chapter. Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated!**

**..:--X--:..**

**Chapter Two: Walls**

If someone had told Kairi that at the ripe old age of 23, she'd be sitting on her front porch knitting, she would have laughed in that person's face. Knitting was a pastime always associated with kind faced grandmas, along with candy and the smell of homemade pie. Kairi was no chef and definitely no grandma. All she needed was a rocking chair and reading glasses. Even now, she found herself smirking at the oddness of it. Considering the alternative, knitting was the lesser of two evils. Evil.

Kairi snorted and looked up from the two needles weaving against her fingers. Her front porch overlooked most of the eastern village of Destiny Islands. She had a theatrical view of every daybreak, every dusk, and every horizon that rose and set. The island she'd played on as a child with her friends was a fist sized mass dotting the ocean. Evil.

Inhaling slowly, Kairi frowned and set aside her knitting bundle. Evil was a threat in numerous forms. Mostly it was associated with blackness, shadows, night, darkness, and the like. Evil came to Destiny Islands as the Heartless. Evil came to her friend Riku as Xehanort. Evil came to Sora as the war or lack thereof. Evil came to Kairi as a wall.

Not even a metaphorical wall, but a solid, ten foot by eight foot expanse of interlocking wood and stone. She could still smell the ink. She could still hear the fluttering of loose paper. She could still see it, every newspaper clipping, every security photo printout, and every yellowed map. An involuntary shudder passed through her fingers and she folded her arms about herself.

It was the chamber formerly known as the private session office of the Council of the Alliance. It had been empty since the attack. There was business a plenty to be dealt with and actions to be accounted for, but no one willing to step up and take control. The chamber was nestled against the back of Ansem the Wise's old office. It was dusty and cold with disuse. Most of the meetings of the Council had been held in the Headquarter Building in the center of Radiant Garden. That was an impossibility now, in more ways than one.

Kairi couldn't remember why she'd gone to the old office, to fetch something from Ansem's office maybe, but she had never made it to the office. She remembered seeing Sora pacing through the crack in the door. He was running his good hand through his hair and muttering under his breath. He'd looked so old then, so weathered and broken, but by then she'd known there was no comforting him. There was no comfort left in the world to him. Only bones and flesh and blood and fear. Oh and revenge, couldn't forget about that little number.

Rising from her spot on the front steps, Kairi picked up her bundle and carried it back into the house. It was a small, square house, but it was her only sanctuary. After returning home, it hadn't taken long for the other islanders to label her. It was like someone had drawn all over her face in permanent ink with loud, large words along the lines of 'damaged', 'post traumatic stress', and 'heart broken'.

Unable to stand the pitying looks from family who could never empathize, she'd moved out to an adequate house and here she was now: knitting on the front porch. Kairi shook her head. No, she was not going to internally monologue about herself again. Too many diaries had been filled; too many sympathetic arms had held her. Too many words of no meaning had been whispered in her ear.

She set the bundle on the counter and pulled out the half-completed afghan, setting the needles aside and rummaging around to pull out the leftover material. Her fingertips brushed against cool steel and she hesitated before gripping and pulling out the Browning nine millimeter hand gun. Without completely realizing she was doing it, Kairi wound her fingers around the smooth handle of the Browning and felt a rush of adrenaline-laced relief pulse through her blood.

_The wall was covered with paper. Newspaper clippings, security photo printouts, maps, sketches, lists, drawings, and cross-connecting lines across a grid._

_She couldn't even begin to comprehend all that she was seeing. The information spread across the brick was almost unintelligible, but all the criss-crossing lines and red circles all pointed to a similar message, and it clicked dreadfully in her mind._

_Counter attack._

"_You aren't supposed to be in here, Kairi."_

Kairi shook her head hard twice. No. She didn't set the gun down. Instead, she lifted it clear out of the basket, feeling relaxed now that she was armed. No. Destiny Islands had never needed guns. She had only brought this one back with her in case…in case what? In case he came after her? What was she going to do? Shoot him? Grimacing, she released the clip and the checked it against the hollow handle. The clip was full. She exhaled through her nose and slid the clip back until it clicked.

Lowering the gun back into the sewing basket, Kairi ran a hand across her face and through her hair, leaning against the counter and biting her lip. The answering machine was flashing three missed calls and a message in the phone cradle on the desk. She straightened and started toward the desk to check the message.

Suddenly her vision went black.

_Kairi spun to face Sora, "What is this?"_

_Sora's expression was flat, dead pan. "It'd be easier to say what it isn't."_

_Kairi waved an arm at the wall, "Fine. What isn't it? Healthy? Ethical? Normal? Sora, this is too far. Six? Six missiles?!"_

_Sora lifted his shoulders, "It isn't nothing, which is what Leon is far too happy doing."_

_Kairi blinked in shock, "Nothing? Half the Alliance is blown to Hell! What is he supposed to do?"_

_Sora's expression shifted from flat to sharp and narrow, "Something. Anything."_

"_This?" Kairi's voice cracked and she shook her head. "No, Sora. No. This is wrong."_

_Sora stepped around her, blocking her view of the wall. "I don't have time to get into this with you right now."_

"_Sora…"_

_Sora turned on her quickly, his hand flashing up and prodding gently at her forehead. "Sleep." He whispered, a soft undertone to his voice draining the strength from her body._

_Her vision went black._

"Guess who?"

Kairi yelped and grabbed at the hands covering her face. In a blind panic, she clawed the grip away from her and twisted from her attacker.

"Whoa, hey, easy. It's me." He let her go, holding his hands up in surrender.

Kairi faced him, "Tanner?"

Tanner smiled tentatively, "Strung a little tight today, huh?"

Kairi pushed her bangs from her eyes breathlessly, inching toward the counter where her Browning lay in plain sight in the basket. "I guess so. What're you doing here?"

Tanner tilted his head innocently, "I can't just drop by to see you?"

Kairi shrugged, nonchalantly turning to the knitting basket and dragged the afghan over it, successfully hiding the gun. She turned back to face him. "I guess."

When she turned around, he was a few steps closer to her. The proximity brought every freckle on his face into view and the mixed aroma of skin and aftershave to her nose. Kairi kept herself from leaning into his presence. She just wasn't feeling that romantic at the moment.

Her face must have shown it, because his eyes searched hers with concern, "What's wrong?"

Kairi leaned against the counter, propping her hands on her hips, "Nothing, just…thinking."

"Uh oh." Tanner grinned, "I see your strife."

That earned a grin. Kairi offered a smirk and looked down at her shoes.

"Hey." Tanner brushed his fingers against her arms, light and reassuring. "Seriously."

"I'm—I just have a lot on my mind, is all." Kairi attempted a casual voice. Fail.

He traced his fingers up her arm and around her shoulders, "I know what'll make you feel better."

Rewind the clocks and make everything okay again, she thought absently.

Instead of reading her mind, Tanner reached into his back pocket and whipped out a red box the size of a permanent marker. "Tada!" He brandished it with a flourish.

Kairi blinked, "Oh no, what did you do?"

Tanner looked offended, "Me? You're the one who pretended not to remember."

The realization unloaded on her like a hot poker to the ribs. May third. Two years. How could she forget that? Her eyes widened and she looked to Tanner apologetically.

Not the least bit put off, Tanner pressed the box into her hands, "Go on, go on, indulge in the spoils."

Kairi took the box but didn't open it, "Tanner, I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you. I can't believe I forgot…I'm sorry…Gah, I'm an idiot…How can I make this—"

Tanner held up a finger to silence her and pointed at the box, "All is forgiven if you'll just open it."

Blinking, Kairi fixed him with a three second glare before popping open the box. A shimmer of reflected crystal sunlight met her eyes. She gasped.

"Tanner." She exhaled heavily.

"You like it?" Tanner twisted his fingers expectantly.

Kairi gently tugged the necklace free from the box, holding it up to catch the fullness of the sunlight pouring through the window, "It's beautiful."

Tanner practically bounced on his heels, "Woohoo, gold star for me!"

Kairi laughed and admired the jewelry. The necklace was a simple silver chain holding three finely cut diamonds. Well, cubit zirconium, Tanner wasn't rich. It had the same effect though. She looked to Tanner. He truly was like a salve on a burn. She was already feeling better, and it had nothing to do with the gift. How was she still dwelling on Sora and the massacre when it brought her pain, while being here with Tanner made her so happy?

"Yes, gold star for you." She nodded.

He grinned lopsidedly and took the necklace from her, "Allow me, mademoiselle." He draped the chain around her neck and she felt his fingers caress her neck as he fixed the clasp. "Tada!"

"Nuh-uh, you only get one tada per day." Kairi pointed out, turning to face him. She caught her reflection in the glass of the china cabinet and was dazzled by the necklace's shine. "It's beautiful."

"You're beautiful." He dropped his palms to her hips.

Kairi tilted her head, "And you're cliché."

Tanner took that as an invitation and leaned in closer to her. Kairi involuntarily leaned toward him as well. Still needing permission after two years of dating. Her eyelids drooped and their noses touched. She tilted her head farther. Tanner covered the last few centimeters and kissed her.

Kairi kissed him back but withdrew after just a few seconds. "All right, Casanova, don't you have a job you need to get back to?"

Tanner looked offended, "I took the day off, remember? This specific day off?"

Kairi grimaced, "I know. I'm sorry. I forgot."

She turned and fiddled absently with one of her knitting needles that was sticking out of the basket.

"Have you been knitting again?" Tanner asked, sighing. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I was…knitting you an afghan." Kairi recovered quickly.

Tanner raised an eyebrow, "An afghan?"

Kairi nodded, pulling her hair behind her ears, "Yes. You wouldn't reject a gift from your girlfriend, would you?"

Tanner still looked quizzical, "We live on an island…and I'm a dude. What warrants an afghan?"

It was Kairi's turn to look offended, "Well, if you don't want it, then I'll just take it back."

She reached out to snatch her knitting basket up. Tanner beat her to it and grabbed the edge of the afghan.

"No way. You went through all the trouble, of course I want it. If your hands touched it, I want it." He grinned.

Kairi didn't let him off the hook, trying not to smile through the mock anger she'd layered on. "Oh no, if it's not practical, it doesn't 'warrant' me giving it to you." She tugged on the basket.

Tanner pulled it toward him, "Huh uh. Now you're just being difficult."

The contradicting pulls freed the afghan from the basket, and the half finished knitting flew up in Tanner's face. The laugh Kairi almost let out choked in her throat as the light caught the steel handle of the Browning. She dove forward to grab it, but the basket toppled forward onto the floor, sending the gun skittering across the floor, landing between her and Tanner.

Tanner fought momentarily with the afghan but froze upon seeing the weapon resting derelict on the floor between them. Kairi went rigid where she was, moving wide eyes from the gun to Tanner's bewildered face.

His eyes were wide with confusion and more than a little horror. Slowly, he lifted his gaze from the weapon to meet Kairi's eyes. Kairi forced her muddled brain to put together some sort of excuse.

"Tanner…" She managed.

"Why is there a gun in your knitting basket?" He asked, his voice strangely quiet.

"I can explain." She lifted a hand.

"Why is there a gun in your house?" He looked down at the Browning again. "You're a pacifist."

Kairi closed her eyes, covering them with one hand, "I know. I am. It's for…reassurance."

"Reassurance? Reassurance of what? Is this about what he did to you?" Tanner asked.

Kairi's blood boiled and she snapped her hand down to her side, her eyes narrow. "This has nothing to do with him. That's my gun, not his."

"That makes me feel loads better." Tanner set the knitting back on the counter, kneeling down and plucking the gun from the floor. He released the clip and checked it. "You keep it loaded?"

"Tanner, it's complicated."

"Yeah, so I've heard." Tanner's upset expression had morphed into one of betrayal. "Why don't you trust me? You can tell me what happened; I'm not one to judge you or anyone else for that matter."

"I do trust you, Tanner. And I love you, but there are some things that I can't—" Kairi was mercifully interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

They both fell silent as the phone rang again. Kairi had no idea what she was going to say to him. She couldn't just spill on what had happened to her, what she'd done. Not to sound angsty and insecure, but Tanner would be better off if she didn't tell him the truth. Ignorance was bliss in this situation. Unfortunately, now that Tanner knew she was packing, there would be no way to shake him.

The phone continued to ring.

"Are you gonna answer it?" Tanner asked tonelessly.

Kairi bit back the moisture building behind her eyes. She would not do the girly crying thing now, not right now. Instead, she took a deep breath and exhaled. Fixing Tanner with an apologetic stare, she crossed over to the phone and checked the ID.

The three digit code preceding the phone number did nothing to sooth her nerves. Swallowing and gathering her scattered nerves, she ran a hand through her hair and picked the phone up out of the cradle, holding it close to her ear.

"This is Kairi. Who is this?" Her voice came out flat and unassuming.

"Princess, this is Lieutenant Armand Walker. I'm sorry to bother you, m'lady, but I have urgent news." The man on the other end greeted her. His voice carried loudly over the receiver.

Tanner's eyes grew wider at the title 'Princess'.

Kairi refused to turn away from him, but could not hold his gaze. "Who are you under?"

"Brigadier General Tifa Lockhart, m'lady." He answered curtly.

Kairi bit her bottom lip. Tifa was BG now then. "Right, and the news?"

Tanner set the Browning on the counter, but his hand lingered on the surface of the bar.

"We got him." Lieutenant Walker replied.

Ice water rushed through Kairi's blood, cooling the angry burn that the Browning's discovery had triggered in her veins. Her lungs constricted and her breath came in short, shallow gasps. She swayed on her feet and grabbed the side of the counter with her free hand.

"You're sure?" She asked, her voice anything but flat now. It carried a tremble to it.

"Dental and DNA records check out. We're holding him at the Allied Station on Radiant Garden."

"So…so it's over?" She asked, closing her eyes to block Tanner's confused stare.

"There are still charges to be filed and trials to sort out, but as soon as the general signs off the interrogation, he's as good as six feet under. It's over, m'lady." Lieutenant Walker answered.

Kairi exhaled heavily, feeling the strength draining quickly from her legs. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

She barely managed to wrangle the phone back into the cradle before sinking onto the bar stool beside the counter. The thoughts rushing through her head drowned out Tanner asking her who that was, what was going on, why he had called her Princess, and who 'he' was. The dull buzz in her brain voided her hearing and she lowered her face into her arms.

It was over.

The notion hit her like a brick wall.


	3. Wake

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. I was feeling dark and twisty, so I gave Sora his own chapter, just to highlight from his own mind how he's changed since the end of AMNoM. Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated! **

**..:--X--:..**

**Chapter Three: Wake**

The World That Never Was, by all accounts, was empty.

The vacant alleyways, the derelict square, the desolate streets. It was the kind of empty that warranted a tumbleweed or two rolling by some thin breeze.

A naturally cool world, considering its normal inhabitants. Heh, there was a comparison. Normal set relative to those cold, mindless, thoughtless, brainless dipshits that usually lurked in the darkness or in that absurd floating castle. It was enough to draw a chuckle, but a cold one.

No, cold wasn't a real feeling here. Sora didn't want cold. Cold was a feeling associated with death, hurt, numbness. The last thing he wanted was numbness. The last thing he needed was death. All that was left was hurt, to be hurt, to do the hurting. Yeah, he wanted to hurt something.

Ixnay on the oldcay.

Sora wanted heat. They'd cooped him up in that damn castle too long. The place was so cold and drafty. Would it kill them to kick up the kerosene sometime? But whatever. Sora could make his own heat. Yeah, just a raw burn. His blood was running hot through his body. The Keyblade's handle felt warm and was throbbing in his hand. It still felt awkward in his left hand, but that's what these training sessions were for…sort of.

Smirking slightly, Sora tromped through the main street of The World That Never Was, stomping intentionally on the noisy metallic grates and whistling loudly.

"Come on." He muttered, letting the Keyblade's teeth drag along the cast iron fencing around the cordoned off block of lawns.

"Come on out and play with me." He drawled in a childlike voice.

Surely there was still some vermin left to purge around here. Ahead of him, the tower stood central station, glowering over the rest of the town like some damn pompous ass. Maybe they were holed up in there…like cockroaches shying from the light. Sora was in the mood to fire up the lamps.

"Yoohoo? Anybody home?" He called, knocking his fist against the crumbling buildings as he passed.

Frowning, Sora spun the Keyblade absentmindedly in his left hand, going through the motions to retrain his hand to handle the weapon. Well, if they weren't going to come waltzing out, he knew a way to get the little buggers to come out like the friggin' Rockettes.

Shifting the sword gingerly to his still sensitive right hand, Sora flung out his left arm.

"Thundaga!" He ordered.

The lightning obediently flowed outward at the incantation, snaking into the forward most building, weaving through the windows and forking into the adjacent buildings as Sora flicked his wrist, sending the spell in blinding tendrils to seek out the darkness dwellers. Immediately, with the sizzle of burning flesh, the Neo Shadows fled their illuminated lairs, clambering out into the square, into Sora's waiting arms.

Sora cut off the spell with a jerk of his hand and switched the sword back to his left hand with a dry smile. "All right, that's better."

Now that the Neos had been sent scurrying out of their caves, they caught the scent of the Keyblade. Milky, sightless yellow eyes turned in tandem to latch onto Sora, still swinging the sword back and forth in a pendulum motion. Their limbs twitched and bent. Their crooked antennae fell flat along their backs, giving them all feral looks. Good, they were pissed. Make things more interesting.

Sora grasped the Keyblade in his left hand in a reversed grip, letting the teeth of the blade dangle loosely behind him. "Hola, bitches."

The Neo Shadows attacked.

In unison, three Neo front runners launched themselves at Sora, claws outstretched, teeth bared. Sora leaned forward into the weight of the creatures, drawing the sword sharply across all three of their midsections. Two of them dissolved in wisps of smoke. The remaining flipped over his shoulders and flopped back onto the shoulders of its brothers. A spark of adrenaline caught in Sora's blood as he watched the murky remains of the Neos coat the concrete ground in a fine film of smoke.

The rest of the horde attacked en masse. Sora jumped over the initial wave, the teeth, the claws, and the suicide lunges. He wasn't interested in the Neos that attacked out of instinct. No, he wanted the Neos that wanted him dead the way he wanted them dead. As gravity took over and pulled Sora down, he raised the Keyblade over his head with two hands and swung in a downward arc. The tip of the blade sunk through the skull of a single Neo.

Sora landed on two other Neos, using his momentum to crush their bodies against the concrete. He jerked the sword from the dissolving smoky skull and swung in a half circle, ripping through the torsos of several more attackers. Their guts tumbled from them in chunks of oily vapor as they died. Some of it splattered against Sora's face. He blinked it out of his eyes as a Neo latched itself onto his back, its fore claws digging into the muscle of his shoulders.

Grunting, Sora flipped onto his back, craning his neck to avoid smashing his skull against the pavement. The Neos grip was shaken as it was smashed and Sora rolled hard, ending up on one knee and slicing the offender's legs out from under him. The thing fell screeching to implode in an oily mass. His back was searing, but he rolled his shoulders and let adrenaline block the shock.

Some of the smarter Neos were shying away from the frontlines now. While the braver, aka dumber, comrades were shouldering their way through, itching to sink their teeth into their enemy. The front lines continued to back away, forming a lopsided circle around Sora.

"No, no, no." Sora chided softly, remaining in his defensive position. "No, no, no. Come on. Come on, you ignorant filth."

When they showed no signs of a fresh attack, Sora straightened, standing loosely, open for attack. He swept his arms out around him.

"Come on! I'm right here. You've never shied away before. Bring it, scumbags!" He yelled.

He wasn't sure if Heartless could understand human language, but they obviously recognized aggression and a tone intending harm and violence. With low pitched shrieks, they surged forward again. Sora pursed his lips. So easy to manipulate. It almost wasn't fun anymore. He leaned sideways, dodging the first Neo's claws and swinging his leg around to contact with the second and third.

Leg still stretched, Sora jerked the Keyblade around in a violent swing, connecting with several patches of scaly flesh, slicing through most of it to move on to the next. With a satisfying tearing sound, four Neos fell to waste. Sora pivoted hard and threw his weight to the right, drawing the Keyblade through six more bodies. One Neo thought it would be sneaky and lunged at Sora's legs. Two claws sunk into the meat of Sora's calf. Strong jaws clamped over the muscle and held fast.

Sora screamed as the teeth touched bone and let one of his knees buckle. He dropped the Keyblade sharply, slicing the claws and jaws from their owner, who turned to dust. This distraction granted the other Neos the perfect opportunity to pounce. Four fresh Heartless, roughly eighty pounds of darkness, crashed onto Sora's back, flattening him to his stomach. The Keyblade slipped from his grasp and clattered once to the concrete before diminishing into the air.

The wind efficiently knocked out of him, Sora saw stars dance through his vision and rolled hard, twisting his legs into a coil and then untwisting to execute a rough reversal of a roundhouse. Two of the Neos were dislodged from his body. The two remaining ones dug in deeper, but their smoky blood dropped from present wounds and hit the open lacerations on Sora's leg.

He would have preferred to have salt rubbed into the torn skin than the Neos' blood. Searing fiery pain erupted on contact, involuntarily tearing another scream from his throat. Sora arched his back, unable to even spit out a spell to throw them off. More Neos climbed on top of him, pinning him in place, stifling the passage of air and crushing him. Good, now the intrigue train was back on the tracks.

With an animalistic screech, Sora mustered up his morphing storage and summoned Valor Form. The energy wave that coincided with the release of a form effectively blasted away the nearest Neos. Taking full advantage, Sora scrambled to his feet amidst the flash of red lightning and relished in the adrenaline rush he connected with Valor. Energy curled around his body in crackling tendrils.

Two Keyblades flashed obediently into either hand. The fingers of his right hand tried to grip in vain at the broad handle. Grunting in frustration, Sora reeled back and launched the faltering sword toward the regathering forces of disorganized Neos. The blade flew into a tailspin, torquing off the shoulder of a shrieking Neo to embed itself hilt-deep through the ribcage of another, continuing forward to pin the smoldering vapor to the concrete. The weapon vanished on impact with the ground.

With his remaining Keyblade, Sora ducked and rolled forward on one shoulder, once again biting back the stabs of pain that ran rampant across his shoulders and around his leg. Pushing through it, he ended up on his feet, which slid across the concrete, now slick with blood, both his and Heartless. Regaining purchase, he swung out an arm.

"Firaga." He hissed.

Flames curled out with a crackle, merrily enveloping the five foot radius around Sora in red and gold. The fire branched out, licking at the bodies of the Heartless. Several of them shrieked as they were blasted into smoke. Sora crinkled his face at the acrid odor of heated metal and melting flesh. As soon as the light of the spell faded, Sora back stepped and spun around, slinging the Keyblade away from his person.

The Keyblade caught the bodies of three more Neos, dragging them back and damaging their bodies beyond repair. The concrete around Sora was now covered by an impermeable haze up to his knees, swirling in thick tendrils as he moved. Valor Form flickered and began to fade. Sora immediately felt a lag in his reflexes, but adjusted his course and summoned the second Keyblade, plunging it into two bodies. He felt the blade buck and ram through the faulty bones of the Heartless' skeletons, the tip of the sword cutting out of the backs.

Wrenching sideways, Sora tore the blade free and dropped to his knees just as another Neo lunged at his head. Avoiding the tackle, Sora felt another Neo smash into his arm, knocking the Keyblade loose. Dropping it, Sora threw his shoulder into the nearest oncoming Neo, shoving it aside and swinging his arm around into the throats of two closer Neos. Another Heartless landed on his elbow and made to drag him down.

Gritting his teeth, he dropped that side of his body, curling his head to his chest and pushing sideways, effectively rolling over the Neo and ending up back on his feet. Instantaneously, he summoned the Keyblade again and cut it across the face of the Heartless he was hurtling toward. The fog of oily black remains swilled about his legs and he back stepped again.

The back of his ankle connected with raised stone. Staggering, Sora lifted his foot and found that he'd stumbled up on the steps of the pompous ass tower. Altering his steps, Sora leapt backwards, pulling into a tight back flip and landing evenly on his feet outside the entrance doors to the tower.

"Okay, so there were more of you than I counted on." Sora said aloud, smirking and holding the Keyblade at bay before the creatures. "Maybe we could just settle this with rock, paper, scissors?"

The Heartless seethed and hissed, crawling closer to the steps and overtaking the stairs to reach him. Banishing the Keyblade, Sora shrugged lightly.

"Yeah, I didn't think so."

Dropping his shoulders, Sora raised one hand and clenched his jaw. "Graviraga."

As the incantation was forced past his lips, the square containing the expanse of Heartless shuddered. A series of popping and cracking sounds told of the buckling concrete floor. The Heartless jolted, momentarily forgetting Sora in their attempts to catch their balance. The black fog of shredded Neos gurgled like oily ocean shallows.

"Graviraga." Sora uttered again, spreading his fingers and widening his palm.

The pavement under the Heartless rolled under the power of the second spell, bricks shattering and concrete slabs breaking apart. Jagged edges of pavement began to stick up out of the black fog, causing many of the Heartless to scatter and seek refuse from the attack from below. As they fled, all formation shot, Sora dropped his arm and lifted his other hand.

"Aeroga."

The wind spell caught at the unbalanced Neos, tearing them from the shattered concrete and blasting them back towards the solid walls of the surrounding buildings. Sora concentrated harder as he heard the pleasant sound of crunching bones and death rattles. His blood was running hot now, boiling through his veins. He could almost feel steam fighting to escape through his pores. He exhaled a harsh sigh of pleasure and lifted blood caked eyes to watch at least a dozen Neo Shadows dissolve upon the forceful contact with the buildings.

The Neo Shadows' attack disbanded, the survivors began to flee in earnest, scrambling backwards away from the tower and evaporating into the safety of the shadows. Dropping his other arm, Sora watched them scurry like ants back to the hill. It was pathetic really. But destroying them wasn't the point. There was no real point to killing the Heartless. The darkness just seeped back into Kingdom Hearts and the captured hearts roamed until they turned into Nobodies.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Sora clucked his tongue, flexing his hand and summoning the Keyblade.

Any straggling Heartless were headed for the hills after that.

Sora looked down at the sword. Oily, purple blood had soaked most of the blade to the hilt, and even the hilt was splattered. Gunk coated the teeth, along with some other blood that was tell tale human red. Sora frowned. Well that just wouldn't do. He looked over at his right hand. Somewhere in that skirmish, he'd knocked the bandaging loose. Red was slowly oozing from the side of his hand down his wrist.

"Now look what you made me do!" He jeered to the fleeing Heartless. "Ah, well, first things first."

Lifting his wounded hand to the base of the handle, Sora summoned up the new water spell he'd learned and closed his eyes.

"Aqua."

Water pulsed from an unknown source across his palm, flowing down over the handle, across the hilt, and around the blade, dripping from the teeth. He ran his hand up and down the sides of the Keyblade a few times, until the shimmer was back in the blade and all of the oily crap was gone.

"Hey hey, good as new." Sora swung it around once to dispense of any stray water, flicking droplets everywhere.

His shoulders protested and the adrenaline could no longer bar the effects of pain and blood loss. Swallowing bile, Sora banished the Keyblade again and rubbed his hands together.

"Cura."

Warm green emanated from his hands and undulated around his upper body, healing all of his shoulders, leaving only the soreness. Chuckling through the ache, he knelt to inspect his leg, which was in ribbons and coated in thick Heartless' blood. Sora acknowledged the burning sting of the poison with a grunt and sent another water spell to wash away the alien blood. He was careful to gouge all of it out. If he healed up the wound without clearing out the foreign contaminant, he could end up with blood poisoning or worse.

Sometimes they just throw the 'or worse' on the end just to make you cringe.

Making a face, Sora polished off his leg with a short cure spell, watching the muscle and skin stitch itself back together with amazement. It never ceased to impress him, what simple magic could do.

Standing again, Sora flexed his leg and bounced on his heels a few times to work out any cramps, surveying the square as he did so. Now he was no interior decorator, but the skirmish had improved the place in his view. Sure buildings were crumbling and the pavement was shot to hell. The black haze of death was slowly seeping into the ground and thinning.

To think, some guys spent their Saturdays bowling.

With a snort, Sora stepped down the stairs of the tower and out onto the broken concrete. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rolled his neck and leaned back as he walked to look up at the stars. They were twinkling and flashing high above him, dotting the night sky and almost winking with a sense of enigma.

Nah, there was no such thing as mystery anymore. Everything could be explained. That's why everything sucked.

Humming off key, Sora traipsed across the ruined square, ignoring the murderous, milky eyes that followed him. Drawing one hand out of his pocket, he waved to the lurking Neos and snapped his fingers. A mass of blackness curled out of the ground in winding tendrils, morphing into a tall dark portal.

"See ya next week, fellas." Sora clucked his tongue and started whistling a tune he couldn't name, strolling through the dark portal that would take him back to Disney Castle.


	4. Equivocal

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as are Tabaeus McCallister, Corbin Franks, and the Fractured Circle. Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated!**

**..:--X--:..**

**Chapter Four: Equivocal**

Leon sat stiffly in his seat, biting his knuckle, and hit 'play'.

"_My name is Corbin Franks, and I am the leader of the Fractured Circle. Believe what you will, but that is my name and who I am._" The soft, breathy voice spoke.

The screen of the television remained black, as though aimed at a dark curtain.

"_I am also the one who helped to lower the skyline of your precious Radiant Garden." A pause, as though for dramatic effect. "I am the voice of those who cannot speak out against your Alliance's overbearing crimes. You think you are so righteous, but your ends are just as cold as ours_."

The black was pulled away in the form of a curtain and the speaker became visible in the center of the screen. Corbin Franks was revealed to be a wiry man, with tangled, dirty blond hair hanging to his shoulders, framing a gaunt face with watery black eyes.

"_But I am not sending this message to enact a debate on the nature of right and wrong. No, Your Grace, I am merely delivering an ultimatum_."

Grunting, Leon paused the tape recording. "Something's off."

Tifa was sitting forward in her seat, arms over her knees. "The guy we have in custody doesn't talk like that."

"Not in the least." Leon sat back, rubbing his temple.

Tifa exhaled heavily and sat up, folding her arms. "The guy in the tapes is too articulated, his speech pattern is too smooth for the guy we have locked up."

Leon looked at her. "Didn't Kairi say something early on about a shapeshifter?"

Tifa crossed one leg over the other. "Yeah, but she was in hysterics. She kept talking about shape shifters and color-coded tacks. Up until she moved back to Destiny Islands, she was sure there were two men named Corbin Franks running the Fractured Circle."

Leon scratched his jaw. "Well, at one point there were definitely two Kairis running around, so it's possible."

"You really got beat up by somebody wearing Kairi's skin?" Tifa snickered.

Leon wasn't amused. "So, if there are two Corbin Franks running around, which one do we have? The grunt or the shapeshifter? And which one is the real leader?"

Tifa looked at the paused screen of the television. "I'd say the guy on these tapes is the real leader. He's too much of a politician. The guy we have must have been up there in the Fractured Circle rankings, though. He's twitchy."

Leon sat forward and ejected the tape, setting on the table between them. "The boss might still be out there." He said flatly. "We need to question the guy in custody more thoroughly."

"Sora's got guards posted all over him 24/7." Tifa muttered, rubbing her hands together absently.

"He's getting more paranoid." Leon said.

"We haven't exactly given him reason not to be." She pushed her hair back. "McCallister could get easier access to Franks than we could. She's in Sora's trust circle of two."

He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes briefly. "He can't stop us from questioning a prisoner. Sora doesn't command THAT much authority yet. He hasn't turned the Alliance into an empire."

She shook her head and stood up. "I'll go question Franks."

Leon nodded, "I'm going to review the rest of these tapes. I still have all of Sora's notes from the attack two years ago that I confiscated. Maybe they'll have some clues."

She nodded and headed for the door.

"Tifa." He said.

She paused. "What?"

"Until we're sure, we don't let Sora in on any of this." Leon said. "The last thing we need is the General flipping out and tearing the Alliance apart to find somebody who may or may not exist."

Tifa glanced at him. "I'm not telling him anything, sure or not."

Leon watched her go, the door swinging closed after her, and stood up, crossing to the file cabinet against the wall of his office.

He had confiscated all of Sora's notes in Ansem the Wise's old office mere hours after the missiles demolished the Great Maw in Radiant Garden. He had been going through and trying to organize them for going on two years now. Between Sora and Tabaeus, they had amassed more information on the Allied underground and the Fractured Circle than he had originally thought.

Pulling two thick folders out of the cabinet, Leon set them on his desk and opened the first one, picking up several post-attack pictures from the day Sora launched the missiles. All of the Allied systems, from Atlantica to Olympus, now had fresh craters in their landscapes from where the missiles had demolished the Fractured Circle bases.

He reached the last picture, one of Port Royal's Isla de Muerta. It was a satellite image. The western coast had been blasted apart, completely annihilating the base. Unfortunately, the shockwaves had upset the sea floor, unsettling the underwater Allied station and causing the station to flood and implode. There had been 50 soldiers inside. Leon frowned and set the image aside.

Now, the Council of Representatives was at Sora's feet, following every beck and call the young man ordered. They weren't even functioning anymore. King Mickey had been elected back to the Head Council, but he wasn't able to do much to lessen Sora's power. The Council was all too happy to let Sora make all the calls. Liberty had been shelved for his rule.

Mickey, Leon, and Tifa seemed to be the only people not bowing down to his every command. McCallister, she was too far gone to hear anything close to reason. Her emotions had clouded her judgment long ago, possibly even before Sora launched his attack.

Frowning more deeply, Leon glanced at the door. Tifa had taken to wearing an eye-patch the past few weeks. He hadn't asked about it. There probably wasn't much to tell. Her vision was gone in that eye, and most of the surrounding skin was permanently discolored and scarred. He didn't press her about it.

Clearing his head, Leon turned back to the paperwork in front of him.

**..:--X--:..**

The rifle ran empty long before Tabaeus wanted it to.

Listening to the echoing clicks as she pulled the trigger, she lifted her eyes from the scope of the rifle and looked at her target. The paper outline hanging down the length of the shooting range hung peppered with holes. None of them were bulls' eyes, but they were hitting the paper, so she was improving. She tugged off the headphones and let them hang around her neck, leaving the shooting range stall.

The General was at the desk against the wall, frowning at the screen of his laptop and eyes zooming back and forth across the text running on the screen. Blood began to fill her face from just being in the same room with him again…Working with the man for two years running hadn't changed his effect on her at all. Drawing a measured breath, she straightened her spine and walked across the room, setting the rifle back in the cabinet.

"Representative governor of Atlantica's land side still isn't game." She announced.

He grunted, not looking up from the screen. "He'll fold."

Tabaeus chewed the inside of her lip, picking up one of the blank notebook pages from the stack of paper beside the General and folding it in half.

"Clearing crew in the Great Maw is moving ahead of schedule." She updated.

"How far ahead?" Still not looking up.

Swallowing, she dropped her eyes to her hands, folding the paper mechanically. "Two months shy of the deadline, at this rate."

"Good." He sat back and turned the screen to her. "What do you think?"

She leaned forward, squinting at the screen and trying to soak in what she was looking at. "Blueprints." She lifted her eyes to find him looking at her, gauging her for a reaction. A fresh blush started to rise and she leaned out of the computer screen's light. "Not for new headquarters."

"Those are done." The General snatched up one of the files Tabaeus had carried in to the station. "The Council approved of the plans for the new underground headquarters at Ground Zero. These are for the Great Maw." He nodded at the screen, flipping through the file.

Tabaeus set her newly finished paper crane on the desk and went for a second look at the screen. "I didn't know you were even—"

"Work order has already gone out for the headquarters. Land clearing will go out next week when the demo team finishes clearing the final pieces of the old building." He explained tersely. "Next on the list is what to do with the Great Maw, since I've got men already working out there."

She pursed her lips. "Whatever you think is best, sir."

He turned the laptop back to himself. "A new training center would be more practical than a war memorial. Those can go up later when the war is over."

Feeling the conversation over, Tabaeus took the file that he'd set down and thumbed through it. He'd drawn through and footnoted all of her work. For all intents and purposes, he'd rewritten them all. Wincing, she set the folder back on the desk.

For two years, demo and clean up crews had been working to clear the destruction of the old Allied Headquarter Building that had been destroyed and the Great Maw from the later counter attack. The last report had noted that they were still finding pieces of bodies in the wreckage. She swallowed convulsively.

During the preliminary planning periods of what to do with the freshly cleared land, she had proposed a memorial monument for the representatives and Council and soldiers who had died in the Fractured Circle's attack and later the Alliance's counter attack…some were calling it Sora's Massacre. Apparently, her idea was 'impractical' and had been scrapped in favor of a new training center…which was needed of course…She sighed and pulled the protective headphones from her neck, hanging them on the shoulder of her chair.

He was the General of the entire Alliance after all. He knew what would work or not. She trusted him to make the right decision. The same couldn't be said for the Brigadier General or Major General, or the King of Disney Castle for that matter. She frowned.

"I want you in Atlantica this afternoon. Get that governor to fold." He was saying.

"Yes, sir." She stood up and crossed to the door, glancing back once and seeing him poring over the notes again. Her paper crane sat derelict behind the opened laptop. Number 473. What a stupid thing to wish for…She blushed and left for the Gummi hangar.

**..:--X--:..**

The makeshift station and holding area was a bleak and depressing place, and Tifa allowed herself a detour from interrogating Franks by a long route that forced her to walk through the cemetery…because that wasn't a bleak or depressing place at all. Regardless, it had been a few months since she'd visited, so with a sigh and a grimace, she walked through the gate to the field of headstones.

Cid's was the first one she saw. It was a distinctive headstone. A few of his coworkers in the hangar had pitched in for an elaborate airship carving to be set into the smooth granite. The rest of the old Restoration Committee shared the row with him: Aerith, Yuffie, and Cloud. Tifa grinned at the flowers placed around all of the markers.

Cid's mortified expression at the flowers popped into her mind and she shook her head, also pleased to see that a few people had left a carton of cigarettes for him. Letters and little momentos littered the cropping of graves for the old Council of Representatives. A lot of good people had been killed in that cowardly attack.

"Hey, guys." She greeted, swinging her arms slightly and feeling stupid.

She wasn't one to talk to headstones. It was pointless, really. There was no sense in it. She was just talking to carved rocks and dead bodies…that was a cheerful thought. Running a hand through her hair, she smiled sadly. Further down the row, Merlin and many others' headstones went on.

From where she was, Tifa could hear the machines working to clear the Great Maw several blocks away. Frowning, she knelt down on her knees in front of the graves, folding her arms close to her chest. They'd been gone for two years…Two whole years…it felt like a decade. She missed them. So much. She couldn't articulate…there weren't words to describe how raw the hurt still was.

Her eyes drifted through the names. Cid and his swearing. Aerith and her gentle smile. Yuffie and her…Yuffie-ness. And Cloud. Pain lanced through her as she looked at his name on the marker. It wasn't fair. Here she was, relatively whole and healthy, save for one eye, and they were dead. Cloud was dead, as well as all of her other friends. Except Leon of course. Two years had done nothing to heal those wounds. They were still present and bleeding.

"Whoa, easy on the angst." She muttered aloud, rubbing her remaining eye and standing again, dusting off her knees. She looked to Cloud's grave marker. "That was always your job, wasn't it?"

Her words hung on the soft breeze and she closed her eyes and ran a finger over the elastic band of her eye patch. Her blind eye had healed. It wasn't deformed or grotesque or anything that she felt ashamed of or felt the need to hide. She just…She didn't know. She felt more secure just covering it up. A few people had asked her about it, idle curiosity really. She didn't have an answer for those people. Leon didn't bring it up beyond a lifted eyebrow, and her shrug had been answer enough for him.

Opening her eye again, she cleared her throat and stood again. "I didn't bring flowers." She chuckled quietly, "You're welcome."

A feeling of awkwardness settled over her. What had she really been expecting, coming here? Some sort of calming effect? Closure? Quiet? Well, there was always quiet in a cemetery. Still, she had that same kind of quiet in the office…Exasperated at her conflicting feelings, she reached out and trailed her fingers on the cool granite of the headstone before turning away. Touching the solid stone always made it real. It sucked. It really sucked.

Sighing, Tifa walked back out of the cemetery, feeling no more at ease or in control than before. She walked to the station and spoke briefly with the guard on duty before steeling herself to interrogate Franks again…if Franks he truly was in custody.

"No change in his story, ma'am." The guard was saying, handing her Franks' papers.

Tifa flipped through the file. "Has he said anything since the first interrogation?"

"No, ma'am."

"Thank you." She took the file with her as she walked down the wall of cells.

"Ma'am, the General has the prisoner under total lockdown. No one is allowed—" The guard started.

"The General doesn't have the authority to keep me from interrogating a prisoner. He hasn't turned the Alliance into a damn empire yet." Tifa interrupted, walking away before the soldier could hinder her further.

Franks was in the last barred cell on the left of the corridor and Tifa inhaled a steadying breath, forcing the images of the cemetery out of her thoughts. She couldn't be flying off the emotional handle with this guy. She and Leon already weren't sure he was the mastermind behind the Fractured Circle. Regardless, if he was the leader or the minion, she'd have to tread lightly.

"Corbin Franks, right?" She said coldly.

The man looked more strung out than before their interrupted interrogation several days prior. Being a prisoner wasn't agreeing with him. Tifa narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips as he lifted sunken eyes to her.

"That'd be me." He grumbled hoarsely.

Tifa pursed her lips. Even without running vocal diagnostics, she knew this wasn't the man who'd spoke on the tapes. His voice was rough, too coarse for the lofty speech in the tapes. Still, he could be masking his voice…or the voice on the tape could have been masked…

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He said, leaning back against the wall and giving her a deadpan look.

"We know you're hiding something." She hissed.

Franks looked at her impassively. "We?"

Tifa glared at him. "What are you hiding?"

Franks snorted. "What difference will it make telling you people a damn thing? You've already got me in this." He looked around his cell. "Telling you anything won't change that. I ain't telling you diddly squat, lady."

Tifa stepped closer to the iron bars, holding the file aloft. "We're going to find out anyway, it'll just take longer. In the meantime, I hope you find your quarters comfortable."

She glanced around the cell to emphasize her point and promptly left him. She didn't give the file back, taking it with her as she left the station. There was no point in lingering back there. If Franks had it in his mind that he wasn't going to spill the beans, then he wasn't going to spill the beans. She'd just have to wait until Leon ran the diagnostics on the voice in the tapes. The sooner the better.

**..:--X--:..**

Nowheres were such dismal places.

Everywhere seemed dismal nowadays anyway. Tragic really. The damned Alliance was raking in the chips and the galaxy was wallowing in its own filth. Comedy was only a tragedy plus time, though, so he had hope that eventually the situation would be laughable.

Notre Dame hadn't exactly been a glorious world before the Heartless got to it. Even though the original world had been restored, the shadow of it still existed. Xontre Daem it was called. Pathetic really. It was like a worldwide brothel and filth pit. Alas, it would have to do. The Alliance had the least power in this stinkhole, so it was the safest place to hide out and bide his time.

His second in command had been captured by the Alliance. That was inconvenient.

The rest of the Fractured Circle was dead, courtesy of that bastard Keybearer. The little imbecile had bumbled his way into becoming General of the entire Alliance, usurping power over the entire military and Council of Representatives. Not a small feat, but he was more trouble than he was worth. That would have to be fixed. Two years was a long time to be hiding.

He stood and crossed the dingy inn room, peering out the dusty window to the sloppy streets below his second story view. Refugees, outlaws, prostitutes, and other undesirables were mingling in the streets, making their mockery of civilized society. Grimacing in distaste, he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

The old woman's form that he had been borrowing was wearing out its allure. The wrinkled skin, the gray hair, the saggy body…It was time for a change. The form had granted him what he needed: invisibility. No one paid attention to a frumpy old woman on the street. Now, however, he yearned for something more attention getting. It was time to have a little reunion with the Keybearer and his Alliance. Even if his army was dust, he was still alive enough to have his vengeance on the General, Sora.

How to go about that…

Pushing away from the window, he rolled his neck and stepped over to the cracked mirror hanging on the wall. A dry smile curled the old woman's lips on his face as an idea occurred to him. What better way to make some waves than to bring back the face of a dead man?

Rotating his shoulders, he closed his eyes and began the shapeshifting process. The wrinkled skin of his arms rolled over bone and tightened back into the guise of youth. His bones stretched and the sagging curves of the old woman recoiled. The muscles along his arms and legs thickened and hardened. Shoulders broadened and the chest and torso flattened.

Frowning in concentration, he dropped his head as the frayed and unkempt gray hair brightened to a blond color, shortening and changing style. He looked up into the mirror, lifting one long-fingered hand to run through his spiked hair, marveling at the new, fresh skin, smooth and lightly tanned over his cheekbones and jaw line.

"Perfect." He tested the voice.

From an old woman's raspy tone to a young man's deep, yet surprisingly soft, voice. It was a nice change.

"Very nice." He straightened as the clothes changed too, from tattered rags to a dark, fitted outfit.

He looked at his face in the mirror. Oh, why hadn't he tried this one out before? It was magnificent.

"Welcome back, my good sir." He said, his face's reflection smirking back at him with Mako eyes.


	5. Thread

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as are McCallister, Corbin Franks, and the Fractured Circle. I also own Duke. Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated!**

**..:-X-:..**

**Chapter Five: Thread**

Leon sat up and rolled his neck, which had grown stiff from poring over the files on Corbin Franks. A knock on the door mercifully forced him to stop reading. The words were all slurring together anyway.

"What?" He grumbled.

The door opened slightly and McCallister poked her head in.

"I brought the test result file." She held up the manila folder, walking in and holding it out.

He took it, careful to inspect the security tape around the edges. "Did you read it?"

"No, sir."

He looked at her sternly for a moment. "All right. That's all."

McCallister stood at attention, turned to leave, and reached the door before she looked back. "Sir, if I may, why are you running diagnostics tests on the Fractured Circle recordings?"

"That's all, McCallister." Leon said, not looking at her as he slit the file open.

"Yes, sir." McCallister left, closing the door of his office after her.

Leon waited until her footsteps faded down the hallway before opening the file. His eyes scanned down the first page of the report and his insides turned over. His and Tifa's theory had been right. The voice on the tape didn't match the man they had in custody. He gritted his teeth and heard someone coming back down the hall. Judging by the sharp heel-falls, it was—

Tifa opened the door without so much as knocking, all but slamming it after herself.

"I need some good news." She huffed, crossing the office and slumping into the couch against the wall.

"Sorry, only disappointment and frustration over here." Leon grunted.

Tifa groaned, laying her head back, "All right, fine. What is it?"

Leon watched her for a moment, twiddling a pen in his fingers, before looking at the report on his desk. "They're not the same."

"Oh, craaaaaaap." Tifa moaned, sitting up. "Not even a little bit?"

Leon handed her the file for her own perusal. "Both voices are male, but that's about it."

Tifa rubbed over her eyepatch, flipping through the files. "And of course there's no ID on who the voice in the tapes is."

"Right." Leon stood and walked in front of the desk, folding his arms. "So who do we have locked up?"

"I went over his records, DNA, dental records, everything matches. The guy we've got is the true blue Corbin Franks." Tifa informed. "But that begs the question, where's the big gun behind all of this?"

"Corbin Franks must have been pretty high up on the Fractured Circle food chain for the leader to use him as an alias." Leon mused. "The King is running some tests on the voice samples as well. He's cross matching voice samples in security recordings and the like, on the off chance it matches with one of them."

"You really think this leader is going to fall for a vocal slip?" Tifa quirked an eyebrow.

Leon's frown deepened. "No, but there's no other option I'm seeing."

"Mickey has better things to donate his time to than working a wild goose chase with an audio recording." Tifa set the file back on Leon's desk.

"Well, unfortunately, we can't trust this kind of work to McCallister anymore. Sora gets any wind of this, and he'll go ballistic." He sighed.

The phone on the desk rang.

He hung his head and straightened, not facing the desk. "I'm not here."

The phone rang again.

Tifa plopped into his chair, looking as exhausted and irritable as he felt. "Where are you going?"

"Home. Maybe I'll find some clarity to this mess away from the mess." He grunted.

She snorted, "Good luck with that."

He left and she watched him go, chewing the side of her lip for a moment before snatching up the phone. "Major General Leonhart's office. He's unavailable at the moment, but if—" She paused at the greeting on the other end. "Your Majesty?"

"Tifa, have you seen the voice results?" Mickey was brief and to the point.

"Yes, both me and Leon have seen them."

"Right. Then you know the real mastermind is still out there?"

"Yeah, but the guy we have in custody is still pretty important."

"I don't doubt that. I've informed Sora and I think that—"

"What?" Tifa jumped to her feet, pressing the phone to her ear. "Why did you tell him?"

"He was going to find out eventually, Tifa. We're not going to regain his trust by hiding things from him." Mickey was calm on the other end.

Tifa made an exasperated noise. "I don't care about his trust. I don't trust HIM."

"I know, and I don't trust him either, but he's got authority over the Council and the military that we don't, so we need him to find the real leader of the Fractured Circle. Sora's not our enemy here—"

"Speak for yourself."

"—This man who led the Fractured Circle is." Mickey continued. "To our knowledge, he never used any other alias than Corbin Franks."

"So basically he could be anybody, anywhere."

"Not necessarily."

Tifa straightened, "Meaning what?"

"I'm working on it." Mickey sounded as though he wanted to explain, but he changed tact instead. "The Council will be convening soon. You and Leon need to be there with me so we can get the inside scoop on what's going on…well, on the inside."

She nodded, "Of course."

"I'll be in touch!" Mickey hung up the phone.

Tifa nibbled on a fingernail as the dial tone droned in her ear. Things had just gotten more complicated. Setting the phone back in the cradle, she took up the file and locked Leon's office behind her. Walking down the hall, she waved an arm to get the secretary's attention. She was taking the rest of the day away from the Headquarter Building. She didn't trust herself to talk to anybody else, for fear of spilling something she shouldn't or…marginally worse…beating someone to a pulp just to vent some of this frustration.

Instead, she grabbed her keys and decided to follow Leon's lead and just go home. At least there she could rant and vent without the nuisance of being judged.

Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

**..:-X-:..**

Sora drummed his fingers on the table top, staring at the blank bulletin board on the wall where, two years previously, he had canvassed his entire research of the Fractured Circle and its leader, Corbin Franks. Except now all of that information didn't mean jack shit. Because Corbin Franks wasn't really Corbin Franks. He was alive. He was at large. And now he had no alias.

He shifted his eyes to where McCallister was plucking at the keyboard of the computer, typing up an order for the crew working in the Great Maw. Construction was set to begin soon. Sora's mind was hardly on that.

"Did you know?" He asked quietly.

McCallister's fingers stilled on the keyboard and she looked up. "About what?"

"Don't play dumb." Sora stopped drumming his fingers and pointed to the phone, from which he'd just finished a call with King Mickey. "Did you know?"

McCallister blinked like an idiot. "Sir, I don't know what you're talking about."

Sora stood, "Corbin Franks, or whoever he is. He's not the leader of the Fractured Circle."

"What?"

He slapped his palm on the desk. "It was a ruse! The imbecile we arrested isn't the leader who orchestrated the attack. He was one of his henchmen."

McCallister's face was unreadable. "Who is the real leader?"

"If I knew that, do you think I'd be sitting here, stuck with you?" Sora growled, starting pace. "The King is running tests, cross matching voice patterns to try and find a match to the sample we have."

"That's like searching for a needle in a stack of needles."

"Yeah, no shit." He glared at her. "How did you not detect this?"

She blinked again. "Me? Sir, there was no way for me to know—"

He silenced her with a raised hand and resumed pacing. McCallister should have found a way to figure this out. She had been the one analyzing that audio sample for weeks trying to find 'Corbin Franks' location. She had every available piece of equipment to discover that something was amiss. Now, thanks to her oversight, they were stuck in this humiliating situation.

Somehow, this was her fault.

Breathing sharply through his nose, he glared at her. "And you delivered the file to Leon?"

"Yes, sir. It was security sealed. Classified. I didn't have the authority to—"

"You're under my authority only and nothing is classified from me." He snapped.

McCallister pursed her lips, not bothering to apologize. The attempt would only have pissed him off further.

"Leon knows, that means Tifa knows too. They're like matching left and right sides of the same brain." He thought aloud. "They're probably trying something on their own, under the radar."

"What do you want me to do?"

"You've done enough." He said dismissively. "Keep that construction going." He headed for the door. "I'm going to fix this."

He slammed the door after him.

In his wake, Tabaeus flinched at the slam and took a moment to hold her head in her hands. Then, regaining her composure, she went back to work, fingers returning to the keyboard. The trembling caused a few typos, and she forced herself to calm and resumed the e-mail.

She didn't know how this day could get any worse.

**..:-X-:..**

"Kairi, we need to talk."

"I know."

"This is really important."

"I know. Tanner, I am so sorry about what happened last week."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I was being completely irrational…Carrying a gun. You were right: nothing that bastard did matters now."

"Kairi—"

"And I promise, from here on out, I'm…I'm going to be better. Jesus, I don't think I could actually shoot that thing anyway."

"Listen—"

"I know, I know. It was low to hide it from you, but surely you can understand my trust issues."

"Yes, but—"

"Still, I know, I should have trusted you with it. I just…I didn't want to burden you with all my…messed up…-ness."

"I've been trying—"

"I know you've been trying, and I'm sorry for letting you down."

"It's not enough—"

"Oh God…you're breaking up with me?"

"What? What, no! Kairi—"

"I knew it! Geez, why am I always messing things up?"

"Kairi!"

"What?"

"I'm not breaking up with you!"

"…What?"

"Far from it."

"…Really?"

"Yes…Kairi?"

"…Yeah?"

"…"

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"I'm kneeling."

"Why? Wh-why are you—"

"Will you marry me?"

"…What?"

"Typically, when a man kneels like this in front of a woman, he means to ask for her hand."

"But—why—it's—"

"I know it's cliché to word it like that…but…what do you say?"

"Oh, Tanner. Yes. Yes, yes, of course!"

"Really?"

"Yes, you dummy! I'll marry you!"

And cut, print, check the gate.

**..:-X-:..**

Tifa closed the apartment door behind her, stepping out of her shoes and rolling her neck, which had grown stiff. She heard the shower running in the other room and crossed the living room to the kitchen, pulling a well-deserved beer from the fridge.

She walked back into her bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom. The tired, sallow face that looked at her from the mirror was hardly recognizable. Geez, she could use three days of sleep and a fifth of Jack. Maybe not in that order, but she looked like crap.

After splashing some water on her face, she toweled dry and went back into the living room, popping the lid off her beer and sinking onto the couch. Leon's dog, Duke the reddish gold retriever, was curled up on the recliner, her glassy hazel eyes watching Tifa. The shower stopped in the other room.

"I've been thinking." Leon spoke up from his room.

Tifa propped her feet up on the coffee table, stretching her calves. "Did it hurt?"

"Haha—shut up." He laughed sarcastically at her.

She snickered and sipped at her beer. "What were you thinking about?"

"Shapeshifters."

Tifa replied with an incredulous silence, crinkling her nose at Duke, who perked her ears.

"Don't start." Leon said, moving around in his room.

"I didn't say anything." She lifted her shoulders, glancing back at his open door.

He just grunted, his back to her as he stood, ruffling through a drawer. Tifa was quick to notice that he was just half dressed, having forgotten the shirt…or not made it to that yet. She tilted her head absently as her eyes helplessly roamed over the lovely curves of the muscles in his back and shoulders.

"It's not such a ridiculous idea." He turned around suddenly and Tifa snapped her eyes back up to his face.

"Oh?" She recovered.

He gave her a weird look for a moment but then continued. "There are Heartless and Nobodies and who knows what other stuff out there. Shapeshifters aren't so farfetched."

Tifa exhaled and ran a hand over her face. "All right, I'm listening."

Leon snatched up a white T-shirt and pulled it over his head. "There're all sorts of lore about these pseudo-humans, creatures that are for the most part human, but with a genetic mutation."

"Uh huh." Tifa mumbled on auto-pilot as…dammit, his chest was—

"They take on the form of anybody they have seen, been in contact with, you get the picture." Leon pulled the shirt on, his hair, still wet from the shower, clinging to his head.

Tifa put the beer to her lips and started chugging.

"Such as Kairi. Somebody who looked exactly like Kairi attacked me and McCallister two years ago, locking us in that room. It definitely was not Kairi, but looked exactly like her." He was saying.

"Hm-mhm." Tifa mumbled around the drink.

He leaned against the recliner's back and Duke lifted her head, licking her nose at him. "And King Mickey said he saw two Kairis running around close to the same time, just before the massacre."

Tifa polished off the bottom of the beer and set the empty bottle on the coffee table. Smacking her lips against the lingering tang of it, she looked over to Leon. "Oh?"

Leon's eyebrow rose. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Everything. Take your pick." She said, sinking back against the couch and rubbing her temples.

Giving a long-suffering sigh, he straightened and fetched his own beer from the fridge.

"Anyway, shapeshifters?" Tifa prompted, "Are you saying you think the leader of the Fractured Circle is one of these things?"

"Could be. No one has seen him or knows his real name. Hell, everything we've got is Corbin Franks and some random, unidentifiable voice." He said, leaning against the wall opposite the couch.

They both fell quiet in thought about what this new theory could mean. The small apartment that they'd shared for the past year and a half was too used to that pondering silence. Duke lowered her head back to the recliner's seat, looking from one to the other, used to the quiet as well.

The two had decided on this course of action after mounting paperwork and impossible work hours forced them to suffer together for days at a time at the Headquarter Building. Rent on two separate apartments was both unreasonable and impractical, considering how little they were at their apartments. Thus, somehow they had agreed to find one apartment closer to the headquarters, only separate from the work place. For a year and a half, it had been comfortable, easy, and practical. But, Tifa mused, something was changing.

"What else have you got?" She broke the silence to push the thought from her mind.

Leon sighed, "Shapeshifters, according to common lore, are impervious to most weapons."

"Oh…wonderful…sounds about right with our luck." Tifa dropped her feet to the floor.

"Yeah." He set his bottle on the coffee table. "The most effective thing I've read about killing them is—"

"You've been researching shapeshifters?" Tifa snorted.

"Shut up." Leon grunted with a frown, "Silver bullets were a recurring mention in all the material I read about killing these things."

Tifa sat forward, elbows on her knees, and rubbed her jaw. "Sounds easy enough."

"Second most mentioned method of death was beheading."

"Sounds messy."

"Yeah."

"Huh."

Duke wagged her tail a few times and looked at Leon with her best puppy eyes, demanding attention. He unfolded his arms and straightened, walking back into the pantry. A few seconds later, the sound of dogfood hitting a bowl made Duke shoot off the couch and into the kitchen, her claws clacking on the wood floor.

Tifa sighed, hung her head, and snatched up Leon's abandoned beer, finishing it off herself.

"Now I don't know about silver bullets or anything like that, but I've never come across anything that kept going after beheading." Leon said from the kitchen.

Tifa climbed off the couch and stretched, gathering up the empty bottles and taking them to the trash can. "So foregoing the silver in lieu of the guillotine."

"Messy, but effective."

Duke was tearing into the food in the bowl. Some of the dogfood was being sloshed onto the floor from her vehemence. Leon watched the dog while Tifa threw the bottles away.

"And Sora knows." She muttered.

Leon's head snapped back to Tifa. "What?"

"The King told him."

"Why?"

"Something about regaining trust—" Tifa waved her hand in a throwaway gesture.

"To Hell with trust. I'm done trusting Sora and he's made it clear he doesn't trust me or you."

"That's what I said."

Leon let out an exasperated exhale and cursed under his breath. "So, what, we're just supposed to do the 'unite against the common enemy' bit?"

"Oh please. No one involved believes Sora wants to work with anybody. He's got the Council around his finger and the army under his thumb. He holds almost all the cards, and he blew up the Great Maw without us." Tifa said.

"He doesn't hold all the cards though." Leon said lowly.

Tifa ran a hand through her hair and rubbed the back of her neck. "Dammit."

He looked at her. "Neck problems?"

"Nope, just general problems." She said, looking at the ceiling. "I'm tired."

He snorted at that. Duke nudged her nose against his hand and he absently scratched behind her ear, making her tail wag happily.

"When was the last time you got more than four hours of sleep?" He smirked at her.

"No, I'm tired of all of this." Tifa confessed. "The hours, the paperwork, the damn PR, Sora, this war that won't friggin' end, and—" She cut herself off from what was bothering her the most, dropping her eyes to Duke, who had her tongue lolling out of her mouth.

"Yeah, me too." Leon said under his breath.

Tifa wasn't sure if he was agreeing with what she'd said or what she hadn't said. Oh, who was she kidding…Clearing her throat, she pet Duke's shoulders and left the kitchen, thinking a hot shower would do her some good…Then those three days of sleep and that fifth of Jack.

Or maybe it wouldn't help at all.

Things were getting way too complicated.

**..:-X-:..**

**A/N**: Probably one of the worst proposal scenes ever, but I was short on creativity and I just don't care for Kairi that much so…It was the best I could do given the dark mood of the rest of this story. Please forgive. It is interesting to write a scene with only dialogue though.


	6. Trespass

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as are McCallister, Corbin Franks, and the Fractured Circle. I also own Duke and Jake. Ezra Fenfeld is an OC of Le Fantome De Opera, who let me borrow his character for cameos in this story. **

**This is the darkest-themed chapter to date in this series, particularly near the end…you'll know what I mean when you reach that part. It could be disturbing to some readers…so…you've been warned.**

**Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated!**

**..:-X-:..**

**Chapter Six: Trespass**

"Ooh! Lemme see! Lemme see!" Selphie was practically bouncing up and down.

Kairi giggled and held out her hand, where the small, simple engagement ring rested on her finger. Selphie squealed and snatched her hand, turning it to all possible angles to get the full effect.

"It's beautiful! Oh, how romantic! I always knew you'd get married first!"

"You did?"

"Of course. I try too hard. In the movies, the girl who tries too hard always gets married after the girl who never saw love coming!" Selphie giggled. "So…how'd he do it?"

"Well, first he—"

"I want every single detail!"

"Okay, we were—"

"Don't leave anything out!"

"All right! There was—"

"Just hurry up and tell me!"

"I'm trying!" Kairi laughed at Selphie's excitement.

"How'd your parents take the news?"

"They love Tanner." Kairi was able to answer that one without being interrupted. "They're…still apprehensive about my being in a serious relationship after everything. They think I'm moving on too quickly, but I don't think I'm moving fast enough." She chuckled.

Selphie tilted her head. "If you say so…" She perked back up. "So…have you considered what to do for the wedding?"

Kairi gave her a vague look. "Well, I need to find a coordinator first…Someone who really knows me well enough to know how to organize my wedding for me."

Selphie's eyes grew to size of dinner plates. "A-are you—Are you asking—"

Kairi watched her stammer with as straight a face as she could manage.

"Girl, do NOT joke around about this! Are you serious!" Selphie squealed. "You want me to coordinate your wedding?"

"Only if you want to…I won't force you…" Kairi said airily.

Selphie's shriek of glee made Tidus and Wakka, who were sparring on the beach nearby, rub their ears and look over in alarm.

"I'll take that as a yes." Kairi giggled.

"Yes, yes a thousand times yes!" Selphie bounced up and down. "Beach wedding! Oh! I can see it now! The northern beach is gorgeous and perfect! When are you thinking of having the wedding?"

"Uh…" Kairi had prepared herself for Selphie's barrage of questions, but she hadn't really considered that one. "Is…six months doable?"

"Doable? Make it four months! I'm too excited!"

Kairi smiled, "That's not a lot of time to prepare—"

"If you want me to, I can MAKE it happen!" Selphie declared.

Kairi laughed, "All right, all right, you twisted my arm. Four months."

"Woohoo!" Selphie hooked her arm through Kairi's and started skipping back toward town, chanting, "Kairi's getting married. Kairi's getting married! And I'm gonna plan it!"

"Okay, first I have to make a call." Kairi walked along with her friend's skipping, taking out her phone and dialing the last number she had ever wanted to call again.

**..:-X-:..**

The building looked like it had been abandoned for a few years now. Most of the windows were broken and the door was boarded up. It was a modest, stone, two story building. The structure was sound and the public records claimed no ownership to it. For just 5000 munny, it was hers.

Tifa Lockhart stood on the street outside the building, arms folded, tapping her elbow with one finger. The building was in a part of Thebes in Olympus that was far enough that no one talked about the Alliance, but still busy enough that everyone knew about the war. All the gossip without the politicians.

The structures on either side of the building were a personalized clay pottery shop and an antique weapon store. Thebes was its own little world, isolated and apathetic about the Alliance and its woes. It would serve that purpose nicely.

With a sigh, she approached the door and forced it open, slipping inside. It smelled like dust and abandonment. Hardly any light was filtering in through the boarded up windows, but as her eyes adjusted, she could see the old tables and chairs littered about the main room. A long counter bar stretched down the right wall. She walked further into the room, finding a few offices in the back as well as a staircase that led to the second story.

Upon further investigation, the second story was dirty but not cluttered. Salvageable. She could do something with this…Was she really considering this? She bit her lip and sank onto one of the concrete blocks left in the second floor main room. She was so tired. Tired of this war, of the arguing and the corruption and the constant suspicion and paranoia.

But could she really just walk out?

Tifa dropped her face into her hands. For the past two years, she had been part of a team. A team built in resistance to Sora's usurpation of power over the Council and the military and the loyalty of almost the entire Alliance. Only Tifa, Leon, and King Mickey seemed to see how unstable and out of his mind with revenge Sora had become. Even the soldier, Private Tabaeus McCallister, who had been trained under Leon personally, couldn't be completely trusted at this point.

She wanted out. Oh, she wanted out so badly. This corruption and the confrontation with the Fractured Circle was going to end bloody and broken, and there was no avoiding that. She had already almost been torn apart by one war. She wasn't prepared, wasn't strong enough, to handle it again.

On the other hand, that was so selfish she wanted to slap herself. Leon and the king had been through the exact same thing: losing people and being betrayed, and they were still fighting. She couldn't bring herself to leave them to fight alone. Not when she could still help.

Last time, she had lost Cloud, her childhood friend and someone she had harbored feelings for without ever saying anything. It had never been the right time. Now he was dead and her feelings about him didn't matter because nothing could ever happen. Now another war was coming, another conflict that could very easily result in hundreds of casualties, and she…she couldn't lose someone like that again…

She refused to.

Drawing a long, steadying breath, she stood and pulled herself together, making up her mind. She would not abandon Leon and the resistance against Sora, but she was not going to continue fighting a war that was only going to end painful and bloody. She would rather work behind the scenes, helping people and attempting to sow the seeds of peace in the background.

The background…where she always ended up anyway.

She pulled out her phone and dialed the seller's number. It had been years since she had run a bar, but if there was one thing the people of the Alliance needed, it was a break and some alcohol to escape this mess, at least for a little while. God knew she needed to escape once in a while.

The seller picked up on the other end and Tifa shifted, holding the phone to her ear.

"I'll take it."

**..:-X-:..**

Tabaeus hung up the phone and exhaled heavily, dropping her forehead to the desk with a dull _thunk_ that seemed to echo in Ansem the Wise's old study. Oh, if there was only one phone call that could make her day worse…she'd just gotten it.

"Why the long face, Tabby-cat?" A snarky voice asked.

Oh, she lied. THIS made her day worse.

"Just go away." She groaned, not lifting her face from the desk.

"Aw, don't be like that, Tabernacle. We've only come to hug." Another voice added.

Tabaeus sat up painfully, glaring at the two intruders. Ezra Fenfeld and Jake Alms stood shoulder to shoulder in the doorway. Self-proclaimed thief and ladies' man respectively, they wore matching mischievous grins…although for different reasons.

"What do you want? I'm not in the mood." She said, shuffling the papers on her desk.

"Why are you never in the mood for me, sweetheart?" Jake cooed.

"Because you make a pass at everything with breasts."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the desk." Ezra grinned like a cat, hands in his pockets. "How come I don't see you around town anymore?"

"I have this thing called a job." Tabaeus explained, as though to a slow person. "And lately I've been royally sucking at it, so please…just let me get back to work."

Ezra frowned. "I've got a job. You offend me."

Tabaeus glared. "Working black market weapons does not count as a job."

Jake plucked one of her origami cranes from the top of her computer. "Aw, this is cute." He lifted the wing. "465…nice."

"Guys, I'm having a really bad day and just don't have time for your bullshit right now." Tabaeus snapped.

Ezra lifted his hands. "Fine, fine, we can take a hint, Tabloid. Just tell us what's got your panties in a wad and we'll go."

"That is, if you wear panties." Jake lifted one seductive eyebrow.

Tabaeus stood, disgusted. "Get out of this office, now!"

The doors opened and the General walked in, looking pissed five feet beyond his tolerance.

"Out." He pointed.

Ezra and Jake looked at him.

"I'm not asking again." He stared at Tabaeus, pointing to the door.

The two urchins exchanged looks, shrugged, and left, closing the door after themselves.

"I told them to leave, sir, but—" Tabaeus started.

He shut her up with one raised hand. "I'll get to you in a second." He snarled.

She paused, seeing the red rimming his eyes and smelling his breath from there. "You're drunk."

"So what?" He lifted both hands. "Beats being sober and stuck with you, a dumbass who can't even arrest the right man!"

She flinched, his words cutting deep, but kept her chin level. "There was no way for me to know that 'Corbin Franks' was not Corbin Franks, sir."

"Shut up." He stepped sideways, staggering slightly. "You're just trying to sabotage me."

She carefully kept the desk between them. "You're paranoid."

"Am I?" He looked at her crazily. "Leon stuck you with me those years ago. How do I know you aren't telling him everything I tell you? His own little mole in my Alliance."

Tabaeus took a careful breath. "My loyalties are to the Alliance, not to any individual officer."

He leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk, half-focused eyes on her angrily. "I AM the Alliance. Leon is just…there." He made a vague gesture. "Him and Tifa…They're in cahoots against me anyway, I can feel it."

Tabaeus swallowed and took a step back. The General followed her movements.

"Just like I can feel that you're hiding something from me." He said lowly.

"No. I'm not hiding anything."

"Lying to your superior officer is an offense, McCallister." He hissed, moving around the desk and stepping toward her.

Tabaeus's shoulders touched the wall. "Sir…"

Drunk or not, being this close to him was killing her. Looking at her with whiskey-induced fury or not, she couldn't help but tremble as he breached her comfort zone.

"You're his little spy, aren't you?" He asked dangerously.

Tabaeus turned her face away from him, disgusted by his breath. "Kairi is getting married, sir." She confessed softly, closing her eyes.

A pause.

"What?" Almost confused.

"That's all I'm hiding from you, sir. I swear. She called me just earlier this afternoon. She's engaged and going to be married in less than six months. She…she invited me." Tabaeus blurted. "I'm sorry, sir, but I didn't think it was relevant to the current situation."

The General said nothing.

After a few seconds of intense silence, Tabaeus couldn't take it anymore and opened her eyes, looking at him. He looked confused, shocked, and above and beyond pissed.

"You didn't think it was relevant?" He repeated, voice low.

A tremble shook her frame. "Yes, sir. We've been so wrapped up in the Corbin Franks investigation that I didn't find it important. It only just happened, sir."

"You idiot—" He pushed away from her, turning away as though revolted.

"The Corbin Franks we have in lock up isn't the mastermind of the Fractured Circle—"

"Thanks to you."

"But the true blue big bad is still out there."

"No shit."

"And it wasn't my fault that we got the wrong man!" She snapped.

The General straightened, turning around and glaring at her. "Oh, it's not?"

"I followed protocol to the dot on those tests. Major General Leonhart and Brigadier General Lockhart came to the same conclusion as I did, as did King Mickey." She pointed out, adrenaline burning her face as she talked back to her commanding officer. "And you can't blame me for Kairi moving on either, sir. You're the one who pushed her away. You're the one who treated her so badly that she felt the need to escape."

He was watching her, dangerously quiet.

She continued, unable to stop now that she was going. "She's trying to be happy and you're just trying to get revenge. I want to help you. I'm loyal to you, but you won't let me be good enough for you!"

Heat burned the back of her eyes but she choked back the emotion. Now was not the time to—

The General's hand flew out, his palm cracking across the side of her face. Tabaeus's head jerked sideways with the slap, eyes wide in shock at the attack. She let her cheek sting, not lifting a hand to touch the reddening skin.

They both stayed quiet for a moment as her breathing seemed to echo through her chest. He had SLAPPED her! In horror and hurt, she turned her neck and looked at him. No remorse. No horror. Not even a sliver of guilt was in his eyes. So that was it then? She was that dispensable and worthless? After everything she'd done for him? Given up for him? Felt for him? No, she refused to be treated like trash.

She bet he had never raised a hand to Kairi in anger.

Her blood boiled and she clenched a fist, swinging around and punching the General of the Alliance across the mouth.

He grunted and turned his head with the blow, blood dribbling over his busted lip. He looked back at her, anger boiling into pure rage in his eyes. For a moment, it took Tabaeus back to watching the missiles criss-cross the sky of Radiant Garden, decimating the Fractured Circle army. Then she saw only him, this General, watching the enemy burn like he was enjoying it.

Snarling, he launched forward, arms wrapping around her waist and tackling her across the desk and to the floor. Tabaeus rolled hard, driving her knee into his ribs and sliding out from under him. He grabbed her arm and swung her against the bookshelf. Papers were dislodged and fluttered over them.

Tabaeus slung her leg around, connecting the heel of her boot with his chest, knocking him back. Clamoring to her feet, she looked to her chair and saw her gun belt hanging there, loaded and waiting.

No, she flexed her jaw. She couldn't shoot him. She couldn't. Not because he was a commanding officer or even because he was the General of the Alliance and could kill her in a heartbeat. No, she couldn't kill him because he was Sora.

Then he was on his feet as well, but not summoning a weapon either. They stalemated, glaring at each other with fists raised.

"Why are you doing this?" She pleaded. "I want to help you."

"I don't want your help." He reproached. "I never wanted your help."

His words were painful, and she tried to keep a stoic face.

"I don't care." She hissed through gritted teeth, "You're stuck with me and my help."

In sheer frustration, he kicked the chair so that it hit its side and made a racket as it flew across the room. He took three menacing steps toward her, but his fists were at his sides now. Tabaeus stared him in the eyes. If he tried to hit her like that again…In love with him or not, she'd slit his throat.

He stopped mere inches away from her, glaring down from the four inches in height that he had over her. She glared back, unyielding, prepared for a Fire Spell, a punch to the gut, a screaming match, but not prepared for what he did.

The General closed the inches and covered her mouth with his own, a violent, aggressive kiss. She could taste the whiskey as his tongue forced its way past her lips, exploring her mouth ravenously. Disgust rattled down her spine at the same time a warm sensation spread through her torso.

He pulled back, "God, I hate you so much right now." He kissed her again.

Her hands, in shock, went to his arms, though she was unsure if she was trying to push him away or pull him closer. She settled for just clutching his biceps in twin vises. Before she knew it, she was kissing him back, involuntarily leaning into him.

This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mist—

His hands grasped her hips, sliding up her back and pulling her close. She lost herself for a moment in how smoothly the warmth of his hands seeped through her shirt, making her skin tingle. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck. Her eyes opened and she stared at the ceiling.

No. No, this was a mistake. He wasn't seeing her as Tabaeus McCallister. He was doing this because he'd just learned that Kairi, the supposed love of his life, was getting married to another man. She was insulted. She was offended. She was mortified. Then his hands went back down, moving under her shirt now, pulling it up, and then Tabaeus didn't care why he was doing this, only that he was doing this.

She leaned back, maneuvering the rest of the way out of her shirt and then letting her lips find his jaw, his neck, his collar. Two years of wanting him crashed through her and she hated herself for that. Regardless, she seemed unable or unwilling to stop as she pulled his shirt off as well, tossing it to the floor and running her fingers through the grooves in his back.

He picked her up and she slid her legs around his waist, folding them in place and dropping her arms over his shoulders, twisting one hand through his hair and kissing him deeply. He carried her to the desk and leaned forward, depositing her on the surface. Longing built up inside her and she drew one knee up his ribs, her back flat across the desk top.

When he looked at her again, the anger was gone, and a lustful hunger was burning in his eyes instead. He dropped his mouth to her collar, working his lips down her chest, between her breasts, and across her stomach. She moaned softly and watched as he unbuttoned the top of her jeans, looking at her face again.

"I…hate you too." She said, but all of her bite was gone.

The ghost of a smirk touched his face and he unzipped her jeans. He began to work the material over her hips and tugged it down her legs. She curled her knees toward herself as he pulled them off, discarding them to the floor. She unfolded her legs, sitting up and pulling him toward her, kissing him on the mouth again, in only her underwear and bra now. Her hands drifted to the waist band of his pants.

"Your turn." She whispered.

He eyed her steadily as he discarded his own pants, stepping between her legs and dropping his hands around her thighs. She hooked her legs around his hips and pulled him forward as she reclined back onto the desk. Her hands ghosted around his shoulders as she pressed her lips to his neck, sucking on the skin lightly.

All remaining reserve flew out the window and she succumbed, losing herself to the almost painful yet wonderful friction between their bare skin as he climbed on top of her. The rest of their clothing hit the floor, and the last of Tabaeus's self respect died…but for the rest of the afternoon, she didn't care.

**...:-X-:..**

Leon finished clearing out the rest of the Heartless just outside the castle of The World That Never Was and frowned, spotting the strange burns on the concrete in the alley. He'd seen markings like that before, but they had no business being here now, or anywhere for that matter.

Lowering the gunblade, he walked over and knelt down, running two gloved fingers over the scorch marks on the ground, as well as seeing the similar markings on the walls. He narrowed his eyes and rubbed his ashed fingers together, sniffing at it before wiping his glove off on his pants, straightening.

Dark magic.

Only Organization XIII members and temporarily Riku had travelled by dark portal, using the ancient black magic to rip open the fabric between the dimensions and transport themselves to Betwixt and Between and to other worlds.

Damn it. The Council was convening in half an hour and now THIS was cropping up? Great, just when things couldn't afford to get any more complicated. Murphy's Law prevailed, apparently. Flexing his jaw, he looked around the square, seeing no Heartless, no Nobodies, nothing that could have conjured a dark portal.

His eyes caught something and he paused, squinting at the shredded sides of the brick buildings surrounding the square. Oily purple and black Heartless blood had dried slick and sticky on the concrete floor of the square. Only one weapon could lay that much waste in one stint…but how could a Keybearer, the carrier of the weapon of pure light, also employ dark magic?

Feeling a migraine coming, he frowned, taking out his phone and hitting Tifa's number on speed dial. They both knew Sora had been up to something lately, but if he was dark-portal-ing himself around to do it…That was where all what-ifs and maybes ended. He had to be stopped.

"What?" Tifa sounded distracted.

"Found dark portal scorch marks in an alley in The World That Never Was." He likewise spared the pleasantries.

She cursed on the other end. "What are we facing now? Shapeshifters can summon dark portals all of a sudden?"

"No," He sighed, running a hand over his face, "But I'm afraid Sora can."


	7. Persona

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as are McCallister, Jake Alms, the Fractured Circle, and the Alliance. Enjoy! Constructive criticism welcome and appreciated!**

**..:-X-:..**

**Chapter Seven: Persona**

It was dark outside when Sora next opened his eyes. At least the sun wasn't out to scald his hangover-sensitive pupils. There was only one window in the back room of Ansem the Wise's old office, and for a moment, he was disoriented and couldn't remember why he was in the back room of the office. The confusion quickly faded as he looked beside him and saw Tabaeus McCallister sleeping, her bare back turned toward him.

Grimacing, he stood and glanced around. The desk in the main office had had all of the materials, papers, and files shoved off the surface. These items were littering the floor, along with their clothes. He clearly remembered THAT carrying over into the back room, where the closest thing to appropriate furniture was a fold out couch…on which they'd fallen asleep after…that.

Ha, appropriate. There had been nothing appropriate about what they'd just done. Frowning, he left McCallister where she was and gathered up his clothes, dressing and checking his phone. There was one missed call from Nestor on the Council. Pursing his lips, he pressed 'call back' and held the phone to his ear, surveying the messy office in slight disgust.

She was a screamer, and hearing her scream his name had felt good. He had to hand it to her, when Tabaeus McCallister did anything, she did it right. Still, it wasn't like that was anything more than sex. No 'making love' or any of that shit.

"Good evening, sir." Nestor greeted in that nasal tone of his.

"You called." Sora said flatly.

"Oh, yes. The investigation team has a possible lead on the real Corbin Franks."

"We have the real Corbin Franks. We need to hunt down the fucker in charge."

"Er—yes, right, of course, sir. What…should we call him? We have no inkling of what his true name or identity is." Nestor stammered.

"We'll call him by his name…Find it out." Sora barked. "Call up four squads. I want Radiant Garden searched again. This bastard is hiding somewhere in the Alliance and I want his head on a stick."

"Yes, sir."

Sora promptly hung up and pocketed his phone roughly. McCallister was beginning to stir and he glanced over once before leaving the office, locking the door after himself so that no one would walk in and find her like that. Hopefully she'd pull herself together before dawn broke. Hopefully she'd also maintain her professionalism about the whole thing. The situation was simple enough.

He'd had an itch. She'd scratched it.

**..:-X-:..**

King Mickey frowned as he looked at the pictures and samples that Leon had brought back from The World that Never Was. Across the desk, Leon had his arms folded, leaning against the wall and watching the king thumb through the evidence.

"I ran every test that I could think of. The Nobodies haven't been powerful enough to form a dark portal since the fall of Organization XIII, and the scorch mark pattern doesn't match the Heartless' MO." Leon said evenly. "And only a Keyblade could cause such a mass slaughter of Heartless all over that square."

King Mickey sighed, looking sad. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? Because if you are, this is dangerous ground, Leon."

"This whole Alliance is dangerous ground." Leon said quietly.

"Oh, you know what I mean." The king waved one hand. "You really think Sora could be capable of conjuring a dark portal?"

"I wouldn't put it past him." Leon replied. "He's been going down the dark road for a while now. Dammit, this whole thing is spinning out of control."

"I'll agree with you there."

Leon looked to the mouse. "There are only three people left in the entire Alliance who can wield a Keyblade: Sora, you, and Kairi. I think I'm safe in assuming it's not you, and Kairi…is Kairi."

"Does Tifa know about this?"

"She's as informed as I am at the moment." He said. "I contacted Destiny Islands. Kairi hasn't left the village since returning there after the Massacre two years ago. Her father told me that Sora hadn't made any contact with her since, but she had contacted Private McCallister."

King Mickey lifted an eyebrow, "For what?"

"To give her a verbal save-the-date." Leon said, expression deadpan. "Doesn't trust the mail system apparently."

"Kairi is getting married?" King Mickey's ears lifted at the news.

Leon shrugged. "Personally, Your Highness, I think we have bigger things to worry about."

"No, this…this could spur Sora to do something drastic." King Mickey looked thoughtful. "He never let go of his feelings for her, and hearing that she is moving on could rile him up."

"And spur him to do what?" Leon questioned.

"Well, Sora's got the Council at his every beck and call, and after the Massacre, the army will be quick to follow him too." The king said.

"I don't like this." Leon straightened, pacing slowly across the office. "They're all too new, too inexperienced. They're going along with him because they don't know what to do. Almost everyone from the old Council was killed in the attack on Headquarters."

"Almost everyone." King Mickey looked to Leon meaningfully.

Leon paused. "All the old Council members and representatives who survived want nothing to do with it now. The new Council members are too green to know how to handle anything, and they're following Sora because it's easier to follow him than to think for themselves." He said, frustrated. "Because if they bothered to think for themselves for two minutes, they'd see how wrong and messed up Sora is."

"Which is why you, Tifa, and I have to open their eyes." King Mickey bobbed his head.

Leon averted his eyes and King Mickey caught it.

"What is it?"

"We're just three people, Your Majesty." Leon said. "And Tifa's…not all here lately."

"What do you mean?"

Leon sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Nothing."

The truth of the matter was, something in Tifa's eye was changing. Her heart wasn't in this war anymore. He could just…feel it. It wasn't a matter of apathy or giving up, she was just emotionally exhausted. She had surrendered enough to this crusade, and Sora's obsession was a one-way road to a bad place. She had nearly hung up on Leon when he told her about the dark portal evidence. He couldn't blame her.

Leon frowned. He was…concerned for her. The wounds from the attack and the Massacre were still too fresh. He'd known her long enough to know in good confidence that she was getting fed up. She wanted out. Problem was, this wasn't a situation that one could just 'get out' of…and in all honesty, he didn't want her to leave. She was damn near the only thing tying him to sanity, with all the betrayals and the corruption and the new Council up Sora's ass.

If Tifa resigned from this, he'd be left to fight alone. Well, with the king…but it wouldn't be the same. But if push came to shove…He wasn't sure if he'd be able to tell her no. What did that mean?

"Is she all right?" King Mickey's question interrupted Leon's thoughts.

"She's tired. We're all tired of this." He replied. After a pause, he lifted his gaze again. "If Sora is the one behind the dark magic in The World that Never Was…He will have to be removed."

King Mickey looked reluctant but accepting. "It shouldn't have gone on this long anyway."

Leon nodded and read the clock on the wall. "Council convenes in half an hour. We should get going, find out what he's planning now."

Hopefully Tifa would be there and they could talk this out. He needed to know that Tifa had his back. That, more than anything else, felt crucial.

**..:-X-:..**

Tifa stood near the back of the Council meeting hall, an amphitheater set up with a table on the 'stage' for the Head Council. Representatives from the Allied worlds had been filtering into the hall for about twenty minutes now, though the meeting wouldn't be called to order for another half hour. She remained disengaged from it all, against the back wall, watching as the early-birds huddled together, discussing this plan or that strategy.

Rumor was that Sora was assembling a campaign to search the entire Alliance for Corb—for the mastermind of the Fractured Circle. Two years spent rebuilding trust and reconstructing buildings throughout the worlds, and he was going to dash it all for a shot at the boss. Tifa made a disgusted noise as she looked down.

Justice was deserved where justice was due, but this was just ridiculous. They had to pick their battles and Sora was throwing his weight around like the Alliance had time and money to spend on a man hunt. She wanted the Fractured Circle leader dead as much as the next guy, but spending months busting down doors in civilian worlds wasn't going to achieve anything.

And now the dark magic…

God, did Sora even know how far off the reservation he'd gone? This was insane. He was using the magic employed by the Heartless, by the Organization, to achieve his ends. Corbin Franks still wasn't saying much. He was locked up at the station. The leader was still out there, doing Kingdom Hearts only knows what, and these idiots were stewing in a meeting hall talking dirty politics to fuel the fire of Sora's thirst for vengeance.

Tifa wondered if Sora even knew why he wanted to hunt the leader down anymore. To avenge the deaths of Riku, Aerith, Cid, Yuffie…and Cloud? Did he really believe this was what they would want?

It was this shit that was tempting her to…

"Anything interesting so far?" King Mickey greeted, walking up beside her.

Tifa leaned forward against the railing overlooking the meeting hall. "Just hearsay and gossip." She scanned the heads in the room. "Leon showed you the—"

"Yes." The mouse sounded saddened by the concession. "Do you really think Sora could—"

"Nothing Sora does could surprise me anymore." Tifa said darkly and saw that King Mickey had arrived alone. "Where's Leon?"

King Mickey looked around. "He's not here?"

Tifa tilted her head, "I haven't seen him."

More representatives in their fancy suits were filtering in, along with a larger-than-normal crowd of cameras and reporters trying to squeeze into the aisles and littering the floor.

"What's this?" She pointed to them.

"Word around town says Sora has an announcement to make." King Mickey shrugged.

"Great." Tifa straightened, "Well, let's grab a seat and see what damage we're dealing with."

King Mickey nodded and left her to walk down to the Head Council table in the center of the amphitheater. Tifa hadn't occupied a Head Council seat since the attack. She certainly had no desire to share a table with 'the General'. She kept a stiff upper lip as she walked down the aisle, avoiding the eyes of the other representatives and sitting in the Radiant Garden section. She fidgeted with the strap on her eye patch and waited for the meeting to begin, already knowing that whatever Sora had to say, she wasn't going to like it.

**..:-X-:..**

Tabaeus woke up alone to the sound of rain pattering on the roof of the office. The distant rumble of thunder was comforting, but the comfort dissipated quickly. Alone.

Sitting up, she looked down at herself and around at the state of the office and back room and hung her head with a groan. Holding the dust-sheet up around herself, she leaned sideways to see out into the main part of Ansem the Wise's old office.

"H-hello?" She winced, hoping against hope that no one was there.

There was no answer and she deflated with relief, climbing off the couch and looking around for her clothes…Wait…NO one?

"Sir?" She stumbled around, picking up her clothes and pulling them on.

No answer.

Swallowing, she finished dressing and walked into the main office, flinching at the mess of papers and files all over the floor, shucked off the desk in the heat of the moment.

"Oh, Tabaeus." She murmured to herself, kneeling down and scooping up the scattered papers. "Have you really sunk this low?"

Stuffing the papers into the respective files, she slid them back into the desk drawers hanging files and set about returning the computer monitor to its correct position. Turning the chair back onto its feet, a paper wad fluttered out and handed beside her boot.

It caught her eye and she reached down, picking it up and straightening it out as best she could. With a soft exhale, she realized it was one of her paper cranes, half crushed as the chair had landed on it. Peering under the wing, she read '465'. Carefully bending it back into shape, she placed it on top of the computer again.

As she did so, her reflection appeared in the black screen of the computer monitor and she paused. Tilting her face toward it, she lifted a hand and brushed her fingers over the red, bruised spot where she'd taken the slap earlier.

A fresh wave of embarrassment and disgust with herself crashed over her and she sank into the chair, holding her head in her hands.

"What am I doing?" She mumbled.

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she sat up and flitted her hands across her eyes before checking her watch. The Council meeting had already begun. That's why the General had left…her…Alone.

She cleared her throat and dug out the file on Corbin Franks. As she did so, a second file slid out from behind it. She always kept the Corbin Franks file at the very back. Blinking, she pulled out the second file and flipped it open, eyes skimming down the first page.

Oh shit…not again…

Closing the file and snatching it up, she ran for the door, found it locked, un-latched it, threw it open, and ran down the hall. Stumbling out into the Postern, she re-oriented herself and started toward the Council meeting hall at the makeshift downtown headquarters. Rain continued to fall in a drizzle.

Construction sounds roared around the open air of Radiant Garden, echoing from the Great Maw. Tabaeus jogged through the main town, nearly tripping as Jake Alms playfully stuck his leg out.

"Where have YOU been, missy?" He teased.

"Not now, Jake." She shouldered past him.

"Those are the clothes you wore yesterday." He sauntered after her.

"Not NOW, Jake." She said, spotting the meeting hall. "I'm in a hurry."

"You seem flustered…bad night?" She could practically HEAR him grinning.

"Even worse morning. Don't you have some other girl to reject you?"

"And let you get away with a walk of shame untaunted? Never, I say!" He announced.

Tabaeus picked up her pace and walked more hastily toward the meeting hall. She had bigger fish to fry than Jake Alms at the moment. Like keeping the General from making a big mistake that could cost him his position, not to mention any popularity he still had left with the Council.

Surely the file was just misleading. There was no way the General, the head of the Alliance and a Keyblade Master, would resort to this.

**..:-X-:..**

The hush that fell when the Head Council took center table continued as King Mickey called the meeting to order. One could have heard a pen drop inside the adjacent building when the General arrived. Every set of eyes watched him as he strode in, nothing showy and no big announcement. He just slipped in like a shadow…a metaphor that Tifa and King Mickey grimaced at.

Cameras latched onto him and followed him to the head table. All opening matters of construction and Security System woes, neutral world reports and states of affairs, were quickly dispatched with and the representatives raised not a question, waiting for this 'big announcement' that their General had promised.

King Mickey could delay the main reason they were there no longer, and nodded to the General, handing him the floor. Tifa narrowed her remaining eye, folding her arms and waiting with the others. He stood center stage, silent for a moment, basking in the blanket of silence that his mere gaze sent over the Council. Then, he began to speak.

Alliance-wide man hunt. Just as Tifa had feared. He talked long and thoroughly about justice, the deaths of the original Council, bravery, and many other fine, pretty words that the representatives soaked up like a sponge. Tifa could barely listen to it, but, as she glanced around the amphitheater, she saw only dewy eyes and bated breath. They were…they were all buying this.

Disappointment crashed through her and she looked to King Mickey, who looked equally aghast but was trying to hide it. Her grip on her arms tightened as the General moved on to lecture about responsibility, spine, and taking action…Standing up against their foe, the Fractured Circle, the mastermind of which was still out there. Their comrades, their friends, had been slaughtered by that monster, and how the General, for one, was not going to tolerate his existence a moment longer.

The rest of the Council made approving nods and grunts of assent.

Bloodthirsty, vengeful, blinding obsession all watered down to pretty words and a warped sense of justice. And they were all eating it up. It was positively nauseating. The side door of the amphitheater opened then.

"And what lengths have you already gone to in order to bring about this 'justice'?" Leon walked in, holding a thick stack of paper in one hand. Private McCallister scuttled in after him, looking out of breath and thoroughly ruffled.

Tifa's chest tightened when she saw him and she directed her gaze back to Sora, who remained standing where he was, giving the older man an appraising eye.

"Everything I have ever done," He spoke evenly, "I have done for the Alliance."

Tifa, as well as everyone else gathered in the meeting, turned their heads back to Leon.

"So blasting half of downtown Radiant Garden to Hell was for the Alliance?" Leon said, stepping deeper into the amphitheatre. "Mobilizing warheads on every Allied world, without Council approval or knowledge, and launching them…That was for the Alliance?"

Sora's eyes narrowed, "The Fractured Circle was, and still is, a dangerous threat to the Alliance. When a rattlesnake threatens to bite you, you don't sit around and deliberate whether to kill it before it kills you or not."

"The Fractured Circle WAS a threat." Leon countered heatedly. "Your little massacre two years ago wiped out all of their numbers, save for the leader—"

"Corbin Franks is in custody!" One of the world representatives cut in.

"Corbin Franks was number two." Sora responded. "And until the true leader of that organization is brought to justice, the Alliance has a duty to hunt him down."

"The Alliance has a duty to protect its people." Leon barked back. "We should be focusing on the immediate dangers that threaten the worlds every day. Heartless, Nobodies, civil unrest, and anarchy: they're the real weapons here…but you already know that, Sora."

Sora's eyes narrowed further and Tifa nibbled on a fingernail.

"This is getting out of control." She mumbled to herself.

Private McCallister had shuffled off to the side, lingering by the wall. A wad of files in a manila folder was clutched in her hand. Tifa eyed her warily and then looked to Leon, whose jaw was flexing furiously. Swallowing hard, she stood and made her way down the row to where McCallister was.

"What does that mean?" Sora hissed.

Leon held up the stack of paper in his hand. "Dark magic." He tossed the stack onto the Head Council's table.

King Mickey looked uncertain as the other representatives on the high table looked curiously at the files. Sora glanced at the stack casually before looking to Leon again.

"You've been using dark magic to—"

"To what?" Sora lifted his arms slightly, looking menacingly to Leon. "Fight the Heartless? Purge the worlds? The so-called 'forbidden' magic has granted me the ability to go faster, stretch farther, and hunt more effectively the monsters that want to tear the worlds apart."

The representatives were shifting uneasily in their seats as Tifa reached McCallister.

"What is—" She stopped when she saw the side of the private's face, red and swollen, and her eyes bloodshot. "What are you doing here?"

McCallister wordlessly looked to Tifa and handed her the file. Tifa looked worriedly at the younger woman, but took the papers, thumbing through them.

"At what price?" Leon was saying behind her. "You're blinded by hate and revenge. The means don't justify the ends, Sora. Your intentions, your mindset, your goals for this…madness…It's only going to get a lot of people killed. You're willing to risk that?"

The question hung in the air of the meeting hall. The eyes of all the representatives snapped from Leon to Sora, waiting for his response. Meanwhile, Tifa's eye roamed down the information in the file and she straightened. This was…

"That's enough." King Mickey stood suddenly, stopping the verbal sparring match between Leon and Sora. "I propose a break. We all need to just cool off if we're going to make any progress at all in this matter."

Sora's eyes were narrow, but Leon was practically seething. Tifa shoved the file back into McCallister's hands. She'd deal with THAT later. She marched over to Leon and hooked her arm around his elbow to keep him from…attacking Sora in front of everyone, which he looked more than capable of at the moment.

"Let's get some air." She said heavily, dragging him out of the hall.

Sora watched them go, suspicion lurking in his eyes as his artificial fingers closed to a fist.


	8. Pariah

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as are McCallister, the Fractured Circle, and Corbin Franks. Enjoy!**

**..:-X-:..**

**Chapter Eight: Pariah**

Two months of planning, and surely Selphie had plowed through every wedding magazine, brochure, and pamphlet on Destiny Islands. Kairi didn't see how she could read that much and not go cross-eyed. Then again, Selphie had 20 years of wedding fantasies and dreams to fuel her energies, so she had to know what she was doing.

"These flowers will complement your purple and silver scheme perfectly." She was chattering.

Kairi watched her friend in amusement while she sipped on her lemonade. They had taken up the front porch of Kairi's house, enjoying the late summer afternoon breeze as they perused flower arrangements, catering companies, and musical selections.

Invitations had been sent, bridesmaids dresses were being altered, her wedding gown was hanging in her closet, and there was still more to be done. Kairi wasn't sure what she had been thinking went into a wedding, but four months was beginning to look like an impossible planning window.

It didn't help that Selphie kept trying to make it bigger and bigger and more extravagant than was necessary for a queen, much less little old her. Kairi picked up one of Selphie's notes and held it in front of her friend.

"Selphie, I told you, no swans."

Selphie looked affronted, "But—but can't you just imagine walking down the aisle to these beautiful birds in the fountain?"

"Fountain?" Kairi blinked, "It's a beach wedding, why would we need a fountain?"

"Well, how else will we float the candles on lily pads?" Selphie said, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"So…" Kairi carefully set the paper down. "You're planning on swans swimming in a fountain with open flames?"

Selphie narrowed one eye and snatched up the paper. "Well, when you say it like that…" She scribbled on the paper. "It'll have to be two separate fountains—"

"No." Kairi chuckled, waving her hand. "No fountains. No swans. No floating candles. Selphie, this is a small ceremony. Tanner's family, my family, our close friends: that's all we're doing."

"Kairi." Selphie smiled, as though speaking to a slow person. "This is the happiest day of your life. Don't you want it to be spectacular?"

"Selphie." Kairi mimicked her friend's tone. "I'm looking forward to a lifetime of the 'happiest days of my life' with Tanner AFTER the wedding. And if we're completely broke from renting fountains and swans and giant ice sculptures…That might be a little harder to accomplish."

Selphie gave a long-suffering sigh that would have put Leon to shame, and picked up the guest list. "Fine, fine, it's YOUR wedding, after all."

Kairi snickered and thumbed through the pictures of flower arrangements.

"This…this is your entire list?" Selphie said, her tone smaller than before.

Kairi looked over the list of names. "Yep. Don't look at me like that. Tanner and I agreed: he gets to invite 50 people, and I get to invite 50 people. The beach isn't that big."

Selphie looked uneasy, reading over the names.

"What?" Kairi lifted one eyebrow.

"You're…uh…I mean…Have you talked to him at all…since…"

"No." Kairi directed her eyes back to the flower pictures. "And I'm not going to."

"I would think you'd want to make amends, just get some closure, before the wedding." Selphie lifted her shoulders.

"He chose to push me away. I tried to save what we had, and he spat on it. He's different. The attack…" Kairi trailed off a moment. "…It changed him. And I can't put myself through that again."

Selphie nodded understandingly, but she wasn't sure that she understood at all. "So you're not inviting anyone from…out there." She gave an absent gesture toward the skies.

Kairi sighed. "Almost everyone I was close to died in the attack." Her heart constricted as she thought of Riku and the others. "And those who survived…Tifa and the others from Disney Castle…I don't know…I just don't think I should…"

The truth was, and she knew it was childish, but she didn't want them there because they reminded her too strongly of what had happened, of what she had lost. The memories were still too fresh, too painful, and she wanted to remember her wedding day as a day of happiness, joy, and celebration, not of resurrecting painful memories.

"But…you invited…her." Selphie said apprehensively.

Kairi read over Tabaeus McCallister's name. "She tried to help me." She ran a hand over her face. "She's the only one I've kept in contact with. It sounds like she needs a break."

Selphie lifted an eyebrow, "And she WON'T bring up bad memories? From what you've told me about her, she's completely—"

"She's quiet. She's kind." Kairi cut her off. "She doesn't deserve to be forced to work with him. So yes, I'm inviting her. She's my closure."

She also hadn't RSVP-ed.

Selphie looked dubious, but she pursed her lips briefly to keep herself from prying further. She offered only a small shrug and looked down at the brochures again.

Kairi glanced out at the village of Destiny Islands. This was her home, a sanctuary safe from war and corruption and evil. It was a safety bubble, not involved in the Alliance and Sora's obsession with revenge. If Sora wanted to make things right, if he showed up wanting to talk about forgiveness, of course she would listen…but she was done trying to coax him away from the ledge. The Sora she knew was gone, killed in the attack. What had survived the attack was a different man.

And she wasn't sure she was ready to face him again.

**..:-X-:..**

The world of Notre Dame hadn't been restored for very long, but the century-old persona of it was already back in place. So far, the Heartless had avoided the newly-regenerated world. Not that Leon could blame them much for that. There was enough squabbling among the religious courts and the civilians and the gypsy population to make the Heartless' presence unnecessary.

The chaos also made it the perfect hiding place.

Leon had thoroughly searched three quarters of the world in the past two months, and there was still no sign that the leader of the Fractured Circle had ever been here. The file that Private McCallister had shown Tifa had been full of Sora's research into Notre Dame, but it was painstakingly coded and took forever to decipher. Sora could have been researching Notre Dame, or the world's Nowhere Xontre Daem. While King Mickey handled the uproar in Radiant Garden, Leon and Tifa were covering Notre Dame and Xontre Daem respectively.

He only hoped Tifa was having more luck than he was.

The annual Feast of Fools had wrapped up in the previous week, so many of the decorations and good spirits were lingering in the streets. It had been the first year back on their home world, so the citizens had had more gusto and fervor for the festivities than usual. It was making it hard to get serious answers out of anyone.

Leon scanned the cobblestone streets, eying the tall towers of the cathedral. So far, the civilians and the gypsies had been more open and helpful than the authorities. The church kept tight ropes in the goings-on in this world, and they didn't mask their feelings on unwanted queries. He knew he was walking on thin ice with the church officials as it was.

But, he'd never been good at making nice, either, so it wasn't like he was losing anything.

Frowning, he walked past the massive cathedral and into the downtown slums. A few store owners were sweeping the sidewalks outside their buildings, and some small children were chasing each other around the streets, reckless and careless to the dangers outside their games.

"A little early for a venture in this part of town, hm, Leon?" The blacksmith's wife greeted, untying the ribbons and streamers that were hanging from the windows and doorways of their establishment.

He offered a small shrug, looking down the main avenue. "Not early enough, apparently."

"Oh, still no luck?" She looked sympathetic. "Maybe the others would take you more seriously if you had some sort of physical description of the guy you're looking for."

"Unfortunately, I don't have anything concrete." He said in exasperation.

She chuckled, "Don't worry, honey, things have a way of showing up eventually."

That's what I'm afraid of, he thought, but just continued down the street.

Up ahead, it sounded like another brawl had broken out between some street vendors and a group of travelers, probably gypsies. Honestly, did these people have nothing better to do than harbor old prejudices? Well, considering the other evils…

Groaning, Leon decided to search the underground waterways. He hadn't hit those yet, and at least the sneering Ministry of Justice wouldn't bother him down there. The towering statues standing on either side of the docks were creepy though. Climbing down onto the chilly concrete, he glanced around to take in the darker surroundings.

Only the soft hum of water pulsing through the tunnels echoed down here. After surveying the immediate area and finding himself quite alone, Leon relaxed slightly, leaning against the wall with a tired sigh. This was a waste of time. Of all the crap boiling around them, the Council wanted to find one man, in a slew of worlds. And this man had no concrete physical description. Height, weight, color…even gender was up in the air, if the leader was a shapeshifter.

He shook his head slightly and could almost see Tifa rolling her eyes and sighing at his insistence of the theory. The image made a smile tug at his lips. He didn't indulge in it, however, and straightened, resuming his search of the waterways. With any luck, she had already found the bastard and had him locked up in Radiant Garden.

Luck…ha.

If he knew Tifa, and he did, she wouldn't let the leader of the Fractured Circle survive to see the inside of a prison.

**..:-X-:..**

The situation in Radiant Garden was a mess.

King Mickey paced in small circles around the expansive library in Disney Castle.

"Two months." Jane Porter leaned over the large desk near the fireplace, perusing the papers and maps spread over the surface. "Two months is a long time for one man to stay put." She frowned, "I don't think this guy is moronic enough to just sit and wait for Leon or Tifa to find him."

King Mickey nodded, tapping his chin as he paced. "Yep. I agree with you there. And there's no tellin' how long that file was sittin' back there before Tabaeus found it."

Donald and Goofy were shifting through maps as well.

"Sora would have kept his information as up to date as possible." Jane said.

"Unless it's a decoy." Goofy said, snapping his fingers.

King Mickey tilted his head, "You think he'd do that?"

Donald sputtered an angry noise and slapped one of the maps. "Nothin' would surprise me anymore. He doesn't trust anybody to even go INSIDE that office."

"Tabaeus McCallister—" Goofy started.

"You think he trusts her?" Jane looked dubious.

"Well, she did hand over the file to Tifa as soon as she found it." Donald shrugged.

Mickey frowned and resumed pacing.

Ever since Leon had gone and told everyone on the Council of Representatives about Sora's dark magic exercises, public opinion of the Alliance had spiraled and Sora's popularity all but bottomed out. The Head Council in particular had felt betrayed. Any lingering trust and loyalty that Sora still retained with the public had been damaged, perhaps irrevocably. Everyone's minds still attached dark magic to the Heartless, destruction, and evil.

Maybe that's what Leon had been hoping for, but Mickey just didn't see how alienating Sora further was helping matters.

"Where is Tabaeus anyway?" Goofy noted, looking around.

"She's still in Radiant Garden." Mickey answered. "She insists on staying with Sora and helping him with the construction in the Great Maw."

Jane sighed, "Whose side is she on?"

Mickey's shoulders drooped and he turned to face all three of them. "We're all on the same side, fellas. Sora's not our enemy. He's tryin' to protect the Alliance just like we are."

Donald folded his arms. "Well, he sure is being a jerk about it."

Goofy looked sad, "And he's so angry all the time."

Jane straightened, "Well, I CAN understand that. Just knowing that Corbin Franks is sitting there down at the detainment facility…Ooh, it makes me so—" She shook her fists to emphasize her point.

"Yeah, when is his trial?" Goofy latched onto the conversation change.

Mickey looked at the news board on the wall. "Next week, but if the Council has its way, it'll be less of a trial and more of a condemnation meeting."

"Serves him right." Jane huffed. "But—back to the other Corbin Franks—whose name we STILL don't know—"

"Let's just call him Alias." Donald suggested. "It's better than 'the real leader of the Fractured Circle'…faster to say too."

Mickey put one fist in his other hand. "Regardless of what we call him, he's still out there, and as long as he's out there, Sora will be lookin' for him."

Although, by the sound of the latest polls, as Sora's popularity plummeted, King Mickey noticed that Leon's had skyrocketed. Being the guy to bring light to Sora's doings, the public had latched onto him, as well as King Mickey for his involvement in the research as well. Tifa had escaped the newfound popularity, probably due to her constant absenteeism at Council meetings.

Unfortunately, Sora had information on the Fractured Circle's leader on a level that Mickey, Leon, and Tifa couldn't touch. If they were going to track him down and end this, it was only logical to work together, all of them. If only everyone would set aside their differences and focus on the common goal. Although, but the looks of things, that wasn't likely to happen anytime soon.

Jane, Donald, and Goofy looked to the mouse king.

Mickey looked back at them after a moment. "First things first, we need to locate…Alias."

**..:-X-:..**

CONFIDENCE IN ALLIED COUNCIL AT ALL-TIME LOW: _Keybearer General refuses to comment on Dark Magic affiliations_.

So read the headline of the Twilight Town Weekly newspaper.

"Tsk, tsk." He clucked his tongue, skimming the article. "What HAS it all come to?"

A dry smirk curled his lips as he turned the page of the paper. The perpetual glow of the town's skies cast a dance of pink and orange colors across the patio area of the outdoor restaurant where he was sitting. Young children were chasing each other in the streets, brandishing those cartoonish-looking bats. They were oblivious to the distress and the carnivorous forces at work around them.

Ah, naivety. In children, it was quite beautiful. In adults, it was quite exasperating.

He thrummed a few fingers against his jaw, glancing above the rim of his sunglasses at a few Allied soldier passersby. Considering how recognizable his disguise was, it was disappointing how little attention he was garnering. There were, of course, perks from borrowing the dead man's physique. The hot tea he had ordered, for instance, had been on the house, thanks to a giggly, blushing waitress.

But, that was all beyond the point.

The other titles that boldly chimed out of the newspaper all indicated the same thing: Sora was floundering. It had been a long time coming. The little imbecile couldn't lead a horse to water in his current mind frame. He had always known that. Now everybody else was growing aware of it as well.

All thanks to ol' Major General Leonhart.

The man was like oil on the slippery slope Sora was careening down.

Turning the pages, his eyes landed on another article regarding the fate of his second, Corbin Franks. The poor grunt was rotting away in a high security Allied facility. The paper gave a few vague details about the man's trial being held soon. The time and location of the proceedings were omitted. The Council probably didn't want any outraged civilians or soldiers who lost loved ones trying anything outside the trial.

Well, it wasn't like Corbin Franks served any further purpose.

He stood from the table and left a small pouch of munny for a tip, smiling at the giggly waitress as he walked away from the restaurant.

Yes, this borrowed form incurred many favorable reactions…but none of the shock and awe he desired.

After all, Cloud Strife had been dead for two years. Not exactly in any condition to be waltzing around the city of neverending twilight and ordering hot tea.

With a chuckle, the former leader of the Fractured Circle sauntered down the warm sidewalks of the town, casually watching the natives mingle about in gossip groups and the children dash around with their Struggle batons.

This surely was a dramatic change from his last locale, the Nowhere of Xontre Daem. But while that world had been nauseatingly vile, Twilight Town was beginning to feel nauseatingly serene. Nothing ever happened here. No one was truly involved or invested in Allied affairs. The little world existed solely for itself. And the Alliance seemed happy to return the favor, ignoring Twilight Town to the point of negligence.

He folded the newspaper carefully and dropped it into a recycling bin on his way back to the old tunnels. Hotels and abandoned houses were all fine and swell, but in order to reside in this world for months at a time and remain inconspicuous, he would need a less…public place to frequent. After all, linger about in one place for too long and people begin to…fraternize with you.

And that was undesirable.

So now their little soup was thickening and things were growing more interesting. Sora's dark magic dealings had come out of the closet and everyone had their panties in a wad over it…because no one else had ever ventured into the darkness to make ends meet, he thought with a chuckle. He had known for a while that Leonhart, Lockhart, and the royals of Disney Castle had never been on board with Sora as the leader of the Alliance. Now it seemed as though everyone was turning tail on the Keybearer by the ship-load.

Quite amusing, really.

Individuals could be truly intelligent at times. It was when they communed in large groups that they begin to grow ignorant and stupid. It was a cosmic law that he had embraced: as the number of people in a collective increase, the cumulative IQ drops. It was an inverse ratio of that volition.

Some polls were showing such massive decreases in public confidence that statisticians were concluding that Leonhart was, in popular opinion, the best replacement for Sora as the Head General. It was a ludicrous idea, but it would be another nail in Sora's coffin…and he was definitely vying for that.

But if Sora was going to be knocked to the ground and his face smashed into the dirt, it would be under HIS boot, not Leonhart's, not the king's, not even that puny Private McCallister's.

Now there was an interesting monkey wrench in this whole scheme.

Private Tabaeus McCallister.

A spineless tool and a washed up mess of a soldier, but she had made her fair share of media appearances as well. Enough for him to keep an eye on her anyway. She was proving to be…uninteresting. No bizarre incidents in her past, no dark secrets in her closet. Her brother had been one among the dead after the backfire of the Port Royale attack on the Fractured Circle base two years ago, but that wasn't exactly public knowledge, he reckoned.

She also appeared to have an all-access pass to the General Keybearer. Perhaps he had underestimated Sora's skill at selecting confidantes. McCallister had proven several times already that she was a vault, a vault to which only Sora had a key. She was, he presumed, one of the most informed people in the Alliance, being Sora's right hand soldier.

But there was something else.

Shortly after the notorious Council meeting wherein everyone became aware of how far Sora had fallen off the Good Little Boy scale, he had seen a news report that briefly mentioned McCallister in connection to the revelation. A short video of the Council meeting itself gave a glimpse of her, and the leader of the Fractured Circle had caught that look on her face more easily than if she had held up a sign in bold writing.

Tabaeus McCallister had actually fallen in love with that Keybearing brat.

Now that was just absolutely delicious.

Reaching the tunnels, he walked into the entryway and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The tunnels criss-crossed like an intricate catacomb, with multi-levels and sudden drops and winding walkways worthy of confusing the wayward wanderer to Ansem the Wise's old office in Radiant Garden. It had taken several days of exploration to become familiar with the dip and curve of the structures.

Aside from the daring ruffians, no one really ventured to the tunnels. They were their own brand of eerie, with a healthy dose of disorienting. Quite artistic, if he thought about it. It would do for diverting any undesirables until he desired them.

It was all coming together nicely.

Two months of dirty politics and mind-numbingly slow Council action, and the stage was almost set. Soon, he would make his move. Soon, he would draw Sora in, like a fly to the web of the most deadly arachnid. Soon, he would watch this entire castle of cards implode around Sora. Every shred of honor, respect, and power that the broken Keybearer still had would burn away.

Then he would crush him.

And now Fate had given him the way to do it.

Sora had spent a good two years alienating everyone who ever cared for him and isolating himself from everything he had ever cared about. It was making finding a chink in his armor difficult. He was trying to make himself impenetrable to emotional attack.

Fortunately for the leader of the Fractured Circle, there was another who knew all the ins and outs of the Alliance, from a General's viewpoint, and she was naked to any kind of emotional attack.

Private Tabaeus McCallister would be the weak link in the Alliance's chain, and she would soon be the cornerstone piece in his plot to destroy Sora, and all that he represented.


	9. Shadow

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as are McCallister, Jake, Duke, and the Fractured Circle characters. This is the breaking chapter, and the action will pick up from here. Home stretch for this story. Enjoy!**

**..:-X-:..**

**Chapter Nine: Shadow**

The Great Maw looked like a hollowed-out baked potato. The working crews had cleared all of the debris and shrapnel and human remains that had been lost there in the attack two years ago. They were calling it Sora's Massacre…probably because of the sheer bloodbath that it had inspired on all the worlds. Now that demolition and clearing had occurred, the construction crews were ready to move in and begin sculpting the landscape for the underground headquarter building that the General had painstakingly planned and campaigned for.

Tabaeus stood near the lip of the Great Maw, blueprints spread out on the table before her. Since the General's popularity had taken a swan-dive nearly four months ago, most of the responsibility for making the Great Maw Project happen had been delegated to Tabaeus. For all the stock and effort that the General had put into making the project possible, he had had no qualms about dumping the entire load on her. Not that she minded…Well, of course she minded, this thing was eating up her life…but the General had more important matters on his plate right now.

And Tabaeus McCallister wasn't one of them.

Straightening, she lifted her eyes from the blueprints to see a bright green Frisbee disk float across the lower wind currents. Following its trajectory in reverse, she saw the red-golden retriever tear over the hill behind her, chasing after the disk with a happy gusto. Major General Leonhart's dog Duke had been marking her territory all over the Great Maw for the past week. The Major General was wrapped up in Allied Council matters in downtown Radiant Garden, and Brigadier General Lockhart was still searching in Xontre Daem. Tabaeus had offered to take care of the dog…because she wasn't busy enough…

The disk descended quickly into the construction area and clattered across the rocks, coming to a halt by two idling bulldozers. Duke pulled up short on the ridge, barking loudly for her toy, but not venturing into the working zone. One of the workers plucked up the Frisbee and smirked, coiling his arm and tossing the disk back up the hill. The dog gave chase after it, tail flapping wildly back and forth in delight.

Tabaeus smiled absently as Duke finally trapped her prey on the ground, scooping it up in her jaws and thrashing her head to and fro to show that Frisbee who was boss.

"Hey! S-slow down, ya—ya big mutt!" Jake Alms staggered over the hill, nearly doubled over and out of breath from running after the canine.

Her smile slid off her face and she looked back down at her papers, but he had already spotted her. He immediately fell into that cocky swagger, though still heaving for air.

"Well, if it isn't Tabby-cat." He sauntered over to her, hands in his pockets.

Tabaeus inwardly groaned, "Alms."

"So stuffy." He snickered, peering over her shoulder at the table. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Work, something you know not of." She jeered.

"It's barely dawn." He lifted an eyebrow at her.

"I need to get a jumpstart on the day. Speaking of the hour, shouldn't you still be facedown in a tray of nachos or something?" She said, snatching up her pencil and correcting a few of her older notes on the blueprints.

Jake made a mock-scoffing noise. "I resent that. Consider me offended."

"Consider me annoyed." She reciprocated. "What do you want?"

He folded his arms and shrugged. "Just wanted to talk."

She rolled her eyes and looked at him. "About what?"

He lifted his shoulders and made a face. "The weather."

One of her eyebrows shot up. "The weather."

"Yeah, small talk. The weather, last night's game, why are we here, the meaning of life." He offered a boyish grin. "When was the last time you 'just talked' to somebody?"

Tabaeus narrowed her eyes. "Why are you being weird?"

"I'm not being weird."

"Yes, you are."

"Define weird."

"It's been five minutes and you haven't made ONE lewd comment or stared shamelessly at my breasts." She accused.

Jake made a ducky face and tilted his head. "Maybe I just know a lost cause when I see one."

The gravity behind his words made Tabaeus uncomfortable and she averted her eyes. She hated the accusation there. She hated him for hinting at it. She hated the whole situation for what it was. Frustrated, she ran a hand over her face and looked for Duke again. The dog was clambering up the hill toward where she and Jake were, Frisbee held triumphantly half in her mouth, tongue lolling out of the other side.

"Alms, out." The General's voice said quietly behind them.

Jake sighed, "That's my cue." He turned, did a flamboyant little bow, and walked away. "C'mon, Duke."

The dog just wagged her tail at him and dropped the Frisbee at Tabaeus's feet. Jake sighed again, shrugged, and sauntered away, whistling absently. Tabaeus hastily pulled herself together and fixed a stony stare across the Great Maw as the General walked up beside her.

"Brigadier General Lockhart is back." He greeted crisply. "She and Major General Leonhart are meeting with the King this afternoon…They're—" He paused, looking across the Great Maw with her. "They're resuming the search for the leader of the Fractured Circle. King Mickey wants my help."

Tabaeus kept quiet, not acknowledging nor ignoring him. She wasn't sure how to react around him anymore. She glanced momentarily at him before looking back at her blueprints. He exhaled heavily and knelt down, picking up the green disk that Duke had dropped. Staying in that squatted position, he paused and then reached out, scratching under the dog's jaw and rubbing her shoulder once before straightening again. Duke's ears were perked and her tail wagging as he stood with the Frisbee in hand.

"I'm going to help them." He said flatly, fiddling with the disk.

"Hm." She offered noncommittally.

"I need to find him and end this guy. I have to focus on that completely." He started. "Which means everything else I'm supposed to do has to be…put aside. I'm…I'm trusting you to handle all of this for me."

Tabaeus drew a careful breath. "I've always handled things for you, sir."

"McCallister—" He cut himself off. Duke keened up at him.

Say my name, Tabaeus inwardly pleaded. Say my first name. Do you even know what it is, you heartless bastard? Do you even have any idea what you're doing to me here? Go to Hell…and take me with you.

Instead of any of that, the General twisted his arm and threw the Frisbee. Duke tore after it like she was being chased, bouncing after it gleefully. For a moment, both Tabaeus and the General watched the dog in silence.

Then he turned away from her. "Well…keep it up then."

And he walked away from her.

Tabaeus hung her head. Son of a bitch.

**..:-X-:..**

Corbin Franks was back in the interrogation room. Tifa stood on the other side of the glass, nibbling on a fingernail and watching the prisoner squirm. King Mickey stood next to her, looking pensive. Working in close quarters with Leon for so long had granted her the ability to read almost every kind of unreadable expression. She wasn't accustomed to such a stern expression on the mouse's face, however, and it was more difficult to figure him out.

"He knows." Mickey said after a long minute.

Tifa looked from the interrogation chamber to Mickey. "What?"

"This Corbin Franks fella, he knows where the leader of—Alias—is." The King said.

Tifa folded her arms. "And we're bringing Sora back into this because…?"

King Mickey sighed, "Do we have to keep having this conversation?"

She sighed. "I don't want to sound like a broken record, but this has to stop."

Mickey looked somber. "I don't like Sora using dark magic any more than you do, but yelling at him and shunning him for it won't help matters. For now, we just have to toler—"

"Do NOT ask me to tolerate it." Tifa interrupted softly. "I spent half my life chasing after Cloud and trying to help him fight his darkness. I nearly lost him twice before I lost him for good. Don't ask me to tolerate a repeat of that history. I won't do it." She pleaded quietly. "I can't."

As if on cue, Sora walked into the viewing room with them. He was alone. Tifa straightened, looking at him apprehensively, trying to size him up. He met her gaze with a cool stare. He was saving himself for the man on the other side of the glass. Mickey broke the immediately uncomfortable silence that took over the room.

"Sora." He greeted. "We think Corbin Franks knows where the leader is."

Sora's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Where?"

"He isn't talking." Tifa said lowly, not attempting to hide her displeasure at seeing Sora.

"Why not?" Sora slid her a flat look and then glared into the room at Franks.

"Does he need a reason?" Tifa replied. "He hasn't exactly been cooperative thus far. Why start now?"

A dark glint touched Sora's eyes. "I'll make him cooperative."

Before Tifa or Mickey could say anything else, Sora was stalking toward the door to the interrogation room, punching in the code and sliding in his card. His other hand flexed and the Keyblade flashed obediently into his palm.

Tifa reacted a split second before realization hit Mickey. "Sora—"

"This ends now." Sora snapped, locking himself in with Franks, who instantly paled when he saw who entered.

Tifa reached the door and beat a fist against it. "Sora, unlock the door!"

"Where is he?" Sora was barking at Franks.

The prisoner cowered in his seat, cuffed to the chair. He still managed a sneering grin, however. "You're looking desperate, kid. Not such a great view from your high horse, is it?"

Sora slammed a palm onto the table between him and Franks. "Cut it out or I start cutting off fingers."

Franks' mouth twitched nervously at that, but his smirk stayed in place. "Bad cop treatment? Please, I didn't cave last time, what makes you think I'm gonna spill my guts now?"

"Your Majesty, we have to stop this." Tifa crossed back to Mickey. "This is out of hand."

King Mickey looked unsure. "I don't…I don't know what to do."

_Slam. Crack._

Both Tifa and Mickey looked into the room to see Franks' head snap to the side. The teeth of the Keyblade sliced across his chest and the side of his face, slinging blood from the ripped skin and sprinkling to the white tile floor.

"Where is your leader?" Sora asked again, menace dripping from his voice.

Franks cried out in pain, cringing in the chair. "I tell you, I'm dead."

"You don't tell me," Sora leaned in closer. "You're dead a lot sooner."

Tifa looked incredulously to Mickey. "This is tolerable to you?"

Mickey winced and drew his Keyblade, unlocking the interrogation chamber door. It clicked and swung open with a heavy groan. Franks was blubbering something. Whatever he said, it was unsatisfactory as Sora drew the Keyblade backwards, ramming the handle down hard on Franks' hand. Tifa heard several bones crack and then Franks screamed in pain.

"Sora, that's enough!" She ran into the room, Mickey on her heels.

"It's not!" Sora wheeled on her, blood on his hands. "We are this close!" He held up his thumb and index finger an inch apart. "This close to finding that bastard and putting him down for good! This dirtbag—" He kicked Franks' in the knee. "—knows where the leader is, the guy who took your eye, took my fingers, took Cloud." He barked.

Tifa flinched, "But what are you losing to get your revenge?"

Sora positively snarled and rounded back on Franks. Before he could land another blow, Tifa closed the gap between them, tackling the General of the Alliance to the floor. They rolled across the tile and Mickey grappled the Keyblade from Sora's hands, disarming him. Tifa wrestled Sora into a headlock on the floor.

"Enough!" She snapped. "For the love of God, Sora, enough."

"…Twilight Town…"

All three of them paused as Corbin Franks' blood-clogged voice spoke up.

Tifa looked up and saw Corbin Franks spit out a mouthful of blood and broken teeth. Mickey was standing beside her and took a step closer.

"What?" The King asked.

"He's at Twilight Town." Franks reiterated, clumped in his seat, bloody and broken.

Sora wriggled out of Tifa's hold, but she kept him pinned to the floor. "Is that the truth?" He growled.

Franks let his head drop back against the back of the chair. "What good does it do me to lie now?" He curled his crippled hand as close to his body as he could, which wasn't much. "Just…don't kill me…you crazy little shit." He groveled pitifully.

"Twilight Town…" Sora repeated, voice low.

Tifa and Mickey exchanged a look.

"It's almost over." Sora said quietly.

"This isn't—" Before Mickey could finish, Sora had shoved Tifa off of him and rolled to his feet, darting for the door. "Sora!" The king cried out.

"Fuck!" Tifa sprang to her feet and ran after him.

As she sprinted out of the interrogation room, King Mickey followed, pushing the door hastily closed after him. The door slid up the lock but didn't latch. Instead, it swung back out, hanging ajar and unguarded. Corbin Franks hung his head, trying to stop the world from spinning around him in double vision. The first thing he saw was the open door.

"Where's Leon?" Mickey asked.

They were going to need back up to stop Sora now. He was running out of the facility like a man possessed…Maybe he was.

Tifa chased after him, yelling over her shoulder. "He's tolerating!"

**..:-X-:..**

She was leaving. She was just fucking leaving.

Outside the security holding station, Leon stood against a wall, looking down at the construction on the new residential district of Radiant Garden. He could see Private McCallister approaching out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't acknowledge her.

If the landlord of the old building hadn't called their apartment, Leon wondered if Tifa would have even bothered to tell him she was leaving. Maybe he would have just opened the door one day to find her room empty and all of her possessions gone.

"Sir—" McCallister started.

Leon didn't look at her immediately. Couldn't he have just one minute to digest some news? Was that too much to ask? Just 60 seconds to soak in the fact that the only person he honestly and openly could talk to was up and leaving. He needed to talk to Tifa directly.

The door to the security station burst open and Sora staggered out of it. Beside him, Leon felt McCallister straighten bolt upright. Right on Sora's heels were Tifa and Mickey, pissed and flustered respectively.

"Franks—Twilight—" Tifa stammered.

Leon faced the situation fully. Sora looked half wild. Whatever had just happened had ripped through the younger man's remaining sanity and composure, leaving only a frazzled and extremely impatient Sora.

He fought to keep a lax expression. "Where's the fire?"

Sora skidded to a short stop. "The leader is in Twilight Town."

Leon pursed his lips. "How did you find this out?"

Tifa pointed accusingly at Sora. "He tortured it out of Corbin Franks."

Sora faced her. "He never would have told us otherwise."

"So you threaten to cut off his fingers and beat him with the Keyblade?" Tifa snapped back.

Sora took a step closer to Tifa and Leon took two steps toward Sora, daring him to try anything.

"Sir—" McCallister looked pale, eyes wide and on Sora.

"Let's calm down and think this through." Mickey lifted his hands. "We need a strategy. We can't just rush in there."

"You can't." Sora lifted a hand. "I can."

He opened his palm and a dark portal morphed into the air between Leon and Tifa.

"Not again…" McCallister murmured.

Not again was right, Leon thought as Sora back stepped into the portal.

"No!" Tifa staggered forward to grab him.

Leon quickly moved toward her, hooking one arm through her elbow and pulling her back.

"Sora, no!" Mickey warned.

The dark portal had already swallowed him with a deep, lulling echo. Tifa struggled against him and Leon let her go. She stepped away and made a loud noise of fury.

"Is he crazy? He's going to get himself killed! He's going to get civilians killed! He nearly just killed Franks and looked like he could have turned on us!" She yelled at the heavens.

Purple and black smoke coiled around the sides of the dark portal as it began to constrict and shrink away in the wake of Sora's disappearance.

"Wait!" McCallister took three long strides and promptly dove into the portal after him.

"McCallister." Leon snapped, trying to grab her.

His hand contacted only the smoky black tendrils and he withdrew it, cursing.

"What is she doing?" Mickey stepped up as the portal collapsed entirely this time.

"Maybe she can talk some sense into him." Leon suggested, though he couldn't hide the skepticism in his voice. "She might be able to hold him off until we get there."

Tifa wheeled on him. "Talk sense? Hold him off? Leon, this is—I can't take this anymore!" She balled her fists.

Leon bristled, but this was decidedly not the time to get into THAT.

"Guys, we can argue about this later. Sora needs help now." Mickey interrupted. "Whether he wants it or not, he can't handle this on his own." He turned toward the Gummi hangar.

Leon exchanged a look with Tifa and followed after the mouse king. As they hastily made their way to the hangar, Tifa pulled out her cell phone and started dialing.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Taking care of this." She said tersely, holding the phone to her ear.

Reaching the Allied hangar in record time, they crossed the floor to the first Gummi they saw.

"…Yes, this is Brigadier General Tifa Lockhart. I'm calling for an arrest warrant." Tifa was saying.

Leon climbed up into the Gummi and dropped into the pilot's seat, flicking the levers and gunning the engine as Tifa and King Mickey boarded after him. He cast Tifa a sidelong glance and lifted an eyebrow. Mickey closed the side door to the ship.

Tifa purposefully averted her eye, snapping her verification code into the phone. "Right, an arrest warrant…for Sora, General Keybearer…"

A dry silence took over the phone and then a burst of talk. Tifa narrowed her good eye. Leon was taxiing the ship out of the hangar, otherwise he would have rounded on her in shock.

"Arrest?" He barked instead. "You're sending out an arrest notice on him?"

"I've tried tolerance, I've tried ignoring it, I've tried cold shoulder: nothing has worked. So I'm going tough love…Your personal favorite." Tifa snapped.

Mickey activated the co-pilot panel on the controls and Leon surrendered the steering to the king so he could confront Tifa properly. She was still holding the phone to her ear, her remaining eye sending him a scorching glare.

"They won't arrest him. He's the General." He pointed out.

"No one is above the law. Not even Sora. I don't care if he shits gold bricks." Tifa spat, then said into the phone. "I don't care about Nestor's policy. Sora is in Twilight Town right now going after—This is a direct order! Notify the Twilight Town Allied base and local law enforcement and send Allied reinforcements to back them up…Overkill my ass, just do it!"

The woman had flipped her lid. She hung up the phone and ran a hand over her face.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Leon said.

Tifa glared. "I'm trying to stop this."

"Extreme measures—"

"For extreme circumstances." Tifa cut him off. "I'm not losing another person to the darkness. I don't care what his motives or intentions are."

Leon touched his forehead in exasperation and looked forward through the windshield. King Mickey had maneuvered them out of Radiant Garden atmosphere and into the black of space. Tifa fell quiet as well, taking his nonverbal cue to calm herself down. It would be no good to show up with their emotions all over the place. Their heads needed to be on straight if they were going to defuse this situation without losing the leader of the Fractured Circle and losing Sora in the process.

Tifa sighed and looked at her phone for a long moment before pocketing it.

"By the way," Leon mumbled under his breath. "The landlord from Thebes called."

Tifa's head shot up and she looked at him, surprise and guilt naked on her face. "Leon—"

He stood up and went back into the cockpit, hating how much this was bothering him.


	10. Wish

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. I do own this story, as well as McCallister, Corbin Franks, and the leader of the Fractured Circle. Just two more chapters after this one. We are nearing the end. Enjoy!**

**..:-X-:..**

**Chapter Ten: Wish**

"You look beautiful, honey."

Kairi fidgeted with her earrings, turning to her mother, who looked on the verge of tears…again.

"Mom, please…" Kairi swallowed the ball of emotion in her own throat. "The wedding starts in an hour. We won't have time to fix your make up if you start crying again."

Her mother just lifted a tissue to her lips. "I can't help it." She hiccupped. "I'm allowed to be emotional at my only daughter's wedding."

Kairi smiled and faced the three angled mirrors again. Her dress was strapless and silvery white. A rich purple ribbon was tied around the waist. It was a simple gown, for a simple beach wedding. She was surprised Selphie wasn't bawling her eyes out about the lack of fountains and swans and whatever else the girl had had her in head for the past four months.

Now the big day was finally here.

"Tanner is a lucky man." Her mother was saying, adjusting the flowers on the bridal bouquet for the umpteenth time.

"Oh I think I'm the lucky one." Kairi grinned.

The dressing room door opened and Selphie entered with a flourish, her purple bridesmaid gown swishing around her knees. She clapped her hands and gasped.

"Kairi! You look so beautiful!" She sounded like she could burst into tears too.

"Thank you." Kairi said, amused by their typical behavior.

Selphie looked around. "People are coming in. Music is playing. Everybody is here and accounted for, and you are a goddess." She gestured to Kairi and winked. "Whaddaya say we get you hitched, huh?"

Her mother handed Kairi the bouquet and Kairi took them. The flowers were lush and loudly colored. The yellows and reds and blues strangely matched the purple and silver scheme of the wedding. She turned the bunch of them slightly in the early afternoon light of Destiny Islands. In a matter of an hour or two, she would be Mrs. Tanner Marcus.

The dressing table directly under the flowers caught her eye and she looked down. The bright yellowish orange of the star-shaped paopu fruit sat smiling up at her from the table. Kairi paused, reaching for the fruit and picking it up. Sharing the fruit with someone you really cared for, intertwining your destinies forever and eternity. A rueful smirk tugged at her lips.

It was a silly, child's story.

"Oh…what is that doing in here?" Selphie snatched it away. "Sorry. I know this isn't—I mean—" She threw the fruit out the window and smiled apologetically.

Kairi's mother blinked in confusion for a moment and then softened, stepping up beside her daughter and putting her hands on her shoulders.

"I know you thought So…you thought he'd be the one—"

"Mother." Kairi interrupted her. "I'm fine. I'm happy. I'm in love with Tanner. I'm finally happy, so please…just…not today, okay?"

Her mother sighed, "Of course, sweetie." She smiled and looked at the bouquet. "Happiest day of your life, right?"

"Exactly!" Selphie chirped.

Kairi smiled and inhaled deeply to calm her nerves. "I'm about to get married."

"And live happily ever after!" Selphie filled in dreamily.

Sometimes Kairi wondered how Selphie hadn't been one of the Princesses of Heart.

As her mother and Selphie concerned themselves over hair touch-ups and emergency make up blemishes, Kairi looked at the mirrors one last time and exhaled, glancing out the windows and onto the decorated beach.

The impassable walls had stayed true during the whole process. No Gummis or transmissions had arrived at the one Allied tower in the Destiny Islands mountains. No communications. No contact. No nothing. All that had come in was one text message, roughly a month after Kairi called Tabaeus McCallister to invite her to the wedding.

It was a picture message, with an icon of a paper crane and the simple words: "Congratulations. I'm sorry. My place is here. I wish you two the best. – TM".

Selphie and her mother were summarily distracted by some stray eyelash on her mother's right eye. Kairi glanced at them and reached into the drawer on the dresser, withdrawing a small, creased swath of paper. She opened it up and eyed it for a moment. It was one of Tabaeus's cranes. She had taken it from the office not long after the Massacre. It was the only one that didn't have a number.

With a hopeful sigh, she placed the paper crane in the mess of flower blossoms and petals. The music was growing louder on the beach. A warm bubble of joy and anticipation spread through her and she felt her palms start to sweat. Breathing deeply, she lifted her eyes from the bouquet and nodded to Selphie and her mother.

"I'm ready." She smiled.

Maybe Tabaeus could help Sora in a way that Kairi had failed.

She could only wish her friend the best.

The trio walked out into the main hallway and Kairi's father stood there, dressed up in a suit for once, and beaming at her widely. His smile spread impossibly wider as he looked his daughter up and down.

"You look like a princess, pumpkin." He said, offering his arm.

"You don't look so bad yourself." She giggled, taking his arm.

The party walked together toward the ceremony on the beach.

Happier days began now.

**..:-X-:..**

Roughly a dozen Gummi ships with the Allied seal emblazoned on their hulls were being prepared for launching from the hangar in Radiant Garden. Soldiers in uniform were arming up and climbing into the ships. Captains punched in coordinates and pilots took their stations.

The call had come in and the Council couldn't override it.

From Brigadier General Lockhart herself, seconded soon after by Major General Leonhart and King Mickey of Disney Castle. No matter how bizarre it sounded, the soldiers obediently prepared to be dispatched to Twilight Town, where apparently the General of the Alliance had gone rogue. The order was to arrest him and bring him in.

The skies were clear as the first three ships launched, and the remaining pilots exchanged uncertain looks. Shit had been stewing for a while, now it was out of the frying pan and into the fire, most of it hitting the fan along the way.

**..:-X-:..**

The black portal opened a block away from the entrance to the Twilight Town tunnels. The passersby yelped and jumped in surprise as the purple and black tendrils melted into existence. They were still reeling from this surprise when the General of the Alliance walked out of the black smoke.

"What is this?" The man who ran the nearby restaurant called out.

"Is that Sora?" A woman started.

The leader of the Fractured Circle was here. Sora could practically smell his evil scent. The black portal moaned openly behind him and Sora lifted his left hand. The Keyblade Oblivion flashed obediently into his fingers and he pressed the fingers of his right hand together.

"What is the meaning of all this?" Another man was yelling.

"Stopraga." Sora hissed, snapping his fingers.

The shockwave of the spell boomed outward in a rapid circle, overtaking most of downtown Twilight Town. The civilians froze in their footsteps. Lights flickered, and for the briefest of moments, the stars beyond the gloaming were visible.

Sora walked on, gait long as he stalked toward the tunnel ways. The paralyzed bodies around him could only watch as he passed, Keyblade in one hand, eyes leaking poison like a predator closing in on that ever elusive prey.

Elusive no longer.

**..:-X-:..**

6:31:45

6:31:46

6:31:47

6:31:48

6:31:48

6:31:48

"Hm." He mused, watching the second hand on his wrist watch.

The tunnels were quiet enough to make the ears ring, and it was making him antsy. Now the clock had stopped. That was interesting…and more than a little unnerving.

Something echoed softly in the darkness of the tunnels ahead of him and he stood from his leaning position on the wall. Ah, it sounded like the little fly had come to face the arachnid without coercion. He turned in a slow circle, scoping out the other walkways that fed to his current location. Roughly 300 degrees into his swivel, his eyes landed on the lone figure standing in the middle of the corridor.

"General Keybearer." He smiled at the younger man's slightly startled face. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Sora's eyes took a full minute of silence to take in the disguise that the leader of the Fractured Circle was wearing. The blond hair, the unnaturally blue eyes, the physique: it was like a perfect clone of Cloud Strife. He eyed the Keybearer with that wry grin, lifting his hands and looking down at himself.

"Quite a piece, isn't it?" He said lightly.

Sora narrowed his eyes, Keyblade hanging from one hand.

"Not much of a conversationalist, are we?" The leader took a step sideways, clasping his hands behind his back. "Well, I guess it must be a bit of a shock."

The way Sora's face had paled at his visage and appearance: that was the reaction he had been hoping for from everyone else.

"Now, I know it would have been smarter to take on a new disguise, not linger so long on one image, but…" He held his arms out. "It doesn't get any better than this."

Sora scowled. "Why?"

"Ha." He chuckled at the anger and the aggression in the other's voice. "Why not? I couldn't very well keep using Corbin Franks. Although, he did serve his part wisely."

"As a scapegoat." Sora hissed.

"You say potato…" He lifted his shoulders and took a few more steps sideways, not any farther nor any closer to the Keybearer. "Anyway, there's something poetic about wearing a dead man's face." He lifted one fist and admired the swordsman's fingers. He cast a sideways smile to Sora. "It tends to get a lovely shock value around his friends."

Sora lifted the dark colored Keyblade in both hands, lips pursed. "Shut up."

"I wonder…" He went on, walking with slow strides to the open cargo box against the wall. "…what would happen if I—" He gestured to his appearance, "—went for a stroll through Radiant Garden? I can think of a few people whose heads I'd turn."

Sora's grip tightened on the Keyblade. He was getting to him.

"So you are a shapeshifter." Sora snarled.

"You don't sound impressed." He tilted his head, "For someone so compellingly anal about details, I would think you would have more appreciation for this. It is not a matter of just looking at a photo, snapping your fingers, and turning into someone else. It takes skill and practice to pull off something so…complex."

"I don't care what you are or who you really are." Sora glared hard at him. "I just want to kill you."

"Temper, temper." He took that final step closer, lowering his hand into the cargo box. "I'm starting to think those imbeciles in your Alliance are right: there really is something wrong with you."

His fingers closed around the handle of the sword in the box. He smiled.

"Let's open you up and see if we can find the problem."

Sora's eyes slid down to his hand in the box. A split second before the leader was able to draw his sword, the Keyblade was flying at his head. He lifted the sword out of the box and rolled sideways, away from the enemy weapon.

Shoulders hunched, Sora gripped the handle of the Keyblade as he rolled through the failed blow, spinning one heel to face the enemy. The muscle and the appearance were all artificial. Holding his own weapon aloft, the leader felt out of his element. He had never claimed to be a warrior, but this borrowed body had been built for battle. He didn't have the compact, trained moves or powers that the real Cloud Strife had possessed, but he could damn well mimic them enough to trick even his closest friends.

Unfortunately, Sora didn't have to mimic anything.

The Keybearer swung his own sword around in a quick circle. He back stepped to avoid the blow and lifted his sword to block the Keyblade. The impact was hard and solid, forcing him to take an off-balanced step backward. As he staggered from the contact, Sora drew back and lifted his leg. He planted one boot into the leader's chest, kicking him back against the wall.

The leader slammed into the brick and the wind was forced from his lungs. He could taste blood from where he'd bitten his lip. Lifting his sword, he feigned right and then swung the blade around to the left. Sora ducked and rolled to the side, coming up behind him. As he turned, Sora's fist smashed across his jaw, sending him reeling.

"Fire." He lifted a hand.

A blast of red flames shot out toward Sora. The spell ballooned in a wave of fire and heat. Sora blocked the magic with the Keyblade, deflecting the blast into one of the other tunnels. The wall exploded and several chunks of rubble and concrete collapsed to the floor. Steam hissed out of the Keyblade and Sora advanced on him.

"You're going to have to do better than that, you spineless mother fucker." He snarled.

This was not exactly going according to plan.

He regained his balance and assessed the situation.

"Come without your little whore?" He taunted. "That's a little independent of you."

Sora didn't respond, just brandished the blade and took a menacing step forward.

He slunk back in response and sneered. "You have a funny way of protecting the people you love: pushing them away, emotionally and physically. It's a wonder they haven't done away with you before now."

"Blizzaga." Sora yelled.

Ice curled out of his fist, spiraling across the floor and wrapping around the shapeshifter's legs, pinning him in place. He dropped his sword and wavered slightly. He chuckled as Sora advanced.

"Haven't done your homework, either." He chided. "Tsk, tsk. What kind of fighter are you? Going into battle half-cocked, with hardly any information about your enemy."

"You killed all those people. Cloud, Riku, the others. You tried to kill me, and you tried to kill Kairi." Sora snapped. "That's all the information I need."

He cackled loudly. "And that's why you've come to end me, eh?" He winced as the cold seeped through his pants and skin painfully. "A master of bullshit, you are."

Sora swung the Keyblade at his head and he leaned back instinctively. His center of gravity shifted backwards, putting pressure on his frozen legs. As Sora carried through with the blow and began to withdraw the Keyblade for another swing, the leader rolled forward, palm slapping against Sora's stomach.

"Thunder." He muttered.

Lightning branched out of his fingers and crawled across Sora's chest. The electricity lanced through his shoulders and down his arms. The spell found the artificial fingers of Sora's right hand and the electronic parts enhanced the electric current, burning the flesh around his knuckles. Sora snarled in pain and was pushed away from the leader with the spell.

Steam and the smell of burnt flesh rose off of the Keybearer and the two faced off again.

"Fire." The shapeshifter placed both hands on the ice around his knees, beginning to melt it.

Sora climbed back to his feet and summoned a Keyblade to each hand. Hate burned in his eyes and he lifted the two weapons. Some slack gave in the ice locking in the leader's legs and he wrenched free.

"Aeroga!" Sora called out.

A gust of cyclonic wind lashed away from his person, sweeping across the room and lifting the leader of the Fractured Circle off his feet, slinging him against the ceiling and letting him drop in a free fall to the floor 15 feet below. He landed with a crash and he spied his sword just a few feet away. Reaching out, he grasped the handle of it and drew a short dagger from his belt.

He looked up in time to see Sora summon Master Form in a flash of yellow light. He rolled to his feet agilely and raised the dagger first. The Keybearer swung Keyblade Oblivion at lightning speed, smashing the knife out of his hand and clattering to the floor. The second Keyblade, Fenrir, slashed across the air.

He managed to duck that, feeling the wind of it across his spiked hair, and drove his own sword forward. He felt the tip pierce flesh and knew he'd struck gold. Sora gasped and staggered, the blade sinking into the flesh of his left side, just above his hip. The shapeshifter leaned his weight into it and the sword continued forward, cutting out the back of Sora's torso.

Sora cursed and let himself fall backward, sword still thrust through his body. Before he could let go of the handle, the leader was pulled forward as well. Sora seemed to have planned this, and as soon as his back hit the ground, his knees came up, catching the shapeshifter in the stomach and throwing him over his head.

He flipped over the Keybearer, slamming into the floor head first. Stars danced through his vision and he couldn't stifle a cry of pain at the impact. They both rolled to their feet, but Sora rolled faster, a blur of yellow as he launched forward in a fresh attack, pure adrenaline blocking out the pain and the blood blossoming through his shirt.

The leader shrank back, trying to get closer to his sword before Sora reached him. He spat out a mouthful of blood, narrowing his eyes at the Keybearer.

"I've taken good care to maintain this fine packaging, and now you've gone and ruined it."

Sora didn't take his bait and physically hurtled the Keyblade at him. The blade spiraled though the air, directly aimed at his heart. He threw himself sideways toward his sword and rolled up to one knee beside the fallen blade. The Keyblade clattered across the concrete and disappeared in a flash. It reappeared a second later to its master's hand.

"For all your finger-pointing at me for being this big, bad, sinister villain, you are not the orange to my apple." He continued anyway. "Revenge, obsession, aggression: not exactly the traits of a pure soul the Keyblade of light would choose on its own."

Sora's jaw flexed furiously and static electricity crackled down the dual blades in his hands.

The leader snatched up his sword and felt at his belt with the other hand, feeling his fingers curl around the shaft of the light flare by his hip.

Sirens began to wail in the distance, outside their isolated battle in the tunnels.

"You're able to attack one of your past allies with such gusto." He pulled out the flare. "We're not that different, you and I."

"I'm nothing like you." Sora swung the Keyblade again.

He parried with his sword and pushed the General of the Alliance off of him.

"I'm not a murderer." Sora growled.

The leader tilted his head and smirked, snapping the flare open.

"Then why are you here?" He taunted softly.

Light engulfed the tunnels, blinding Sora and forcing him to lift an arm to shield his eyes. The shapeshifter's Mako-enhanced eyes just narrowed, however, and he charged forward, taking advantage of his opponent's misfortune.

**..:-X-:..**

Corbin Franks eyed the door to his interrogation chamber. It stood still and ajar, revealing part of the corridor beyond the room. The handcuff around his wrist clinked as he wriggled his arm. That giant mouse king had cast a quick Cura spell on him before dashing after the General and the crazy bitch Lockhart.

No one was guarding the door.

Gritting his teeth, he looked down at his hand, the broken and mangled bones hissing up at him. It hadn't started swelling yet. The cuff around that hand wasn't that tight. Grimacing, he coiled his elbow toward himself and began to pull the abused hand against the handcuff. Pain shot in ramrods up his arm and into his shoulder, but he bit down hard on his tongue to keep from making any noise. There might not be any guards immediately outside that door, but they would very well be around and within earshot.

This might be the only chance he got, and he was determined not to fuck it up.

It took an excruciating two minutes, but Franks managed to maneuver his wounded hand through the restrictive metal. With a sharp gasp, he stood out of the chair and staggered away from it. No alarms went up and no sirens sounded, so his escape attempt was still unnoticed. Taking some heart from the continuing silence, he limped across the room and slid through the open door.

The corridor outside the chamber was empty, but he could hear a loud commotion just outside the main room. Something big was happening in downtown Radiant Garden, and if all the authorities were there, then Corbin Franks was pointing his feet in the opposite direction.

Slinking across the room, he reached the emergency exit and gingerly pushed it open with his shoulder. The alleyway just outside was vacant and shadowed. He slipped out into the darkness and disappeared.

Several blocks away, the rest of the team assigned to arresting the General launched out of Radiant Garden.


	11. Deal

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as are McCallister and the Fractured Circle people. Second to last chapter! I hope it's been an entertaining ride so far. We're in the home stretch now. I also got a little wrapped up in the action of this chapter, so I apologize if it seems rushed or awkward in some parts. Constructive criticism welcome! Enjoy!**

**..:-X-:..**

**Chapter Eleven: Deal**

Travelling by dark portal was like being tied to a shark underwater. The force that dragged Tabaeus through the blackness had the strength to tear her in half, she had no doubt. The darkness danced across her skin like smoke or water, pushing her at the same time she was pulled through. She tried to cry out, but her breath was lost in the void.

Then, before she could begin to choke on it, she was thrown forward and out of the blackness. She landed hard on her hands and knees on the cobblestone sidewalks of downtown Twilight Town. Gasping for air, she scrambled to her feet before her balance was back. She staggered sideways into a body and nearly hit the ground again.

"Sorry." She hastily apologized, before looking to the person and yelping.

The civilian she'd bumped into was frozen stiff, locked into a magical paralysis. Panting, she scanned her surroundings and saw that everyone around her was under the same influence. She was no magician, but this had Stop Spell written all over it…A powerful one too. Something snagged the corner of her eye and she faced the farther downtown area a block away.

Brown, dusty smoke was rising in a column out of the old tunnel system zone. It was the only sign of anything moving in sight. She patted her side and found that her holster was still in place, the gun buckled in. It hadn't been ripped away by the portal. Drawing it out, she started at a run toward the tunnels, toward the curling smoke that was stretching into the sky.

The utter stillness and silence of the usually bustling and noisy world was unnerving to say the least. She pressed on, sprinting toward the main entrance to the tunnels. Nothing rose up to meet her on the way. No Heartless, no Nobodies, no foes materialized to greet her. She wasn't sure if this was a good sign or not.

Skidding to a rough halt outside the entrance, she hesitated for a moment as the endless darkness of the tunnels moaned at her. She swallowed hard and checked the clip in her gun. It was fresh and loaded and ready to go. Drawing strength from the cold steel in her hands, she crept forward into the black corridors.

The shadows enveloped her immediately and she blinked to hasten her eyes adjusting to the lack of light. The town had always been consistent about keeping these tunnels lit well enough to navigate. Whatever had caused that smoke, that implosion, it was covering its tracks and didn't want to be followed.

Too bad.

Tabaeus bit her lower lip as she strained her ears, hoping to pick up any sound that could indicate where the General or any unfriendlies were. Keeping her footfalls light, she made a stealthy progress into the interior of the catacombs, breathing as evenly as possible.

Something was moving up ahead, around the next left corner. All senses on alert, she bobbed forward and quickened her pace apprehensively. She didn't have to wait long to figure out what the noise was, because the corner she was nearing exploded. Her jaw clenched to stifle a cry of surprise as she saw the General fly off the impact with the corner, slamming through another wall of the tunnel and disappearing in a heap of rubble and smoke.

Eyes wide, Tabaeus gripped her gun extra tightly and stopped her feet. Fighting every instinct that told her to rush to her commanding officer's aid, she looked back instead in the direction from which he'd been flung. She removed the safety from her weapon and backed away from the corner, sneaking along the back wall to come around the enemy, whoever or whatever it was, from the rear.

She could hear Sora moving, so he wasn't dead or too terribly injured at least. She swallowed, despite her dry throat, and quickly rounded one corner to nearly run into—

"Private McCallister?" Major General Leonhart barked at her. "What are you doing here?"

"S-sir?" Tabaeus staggered in surprise, aiming her gun at the floor and away from her superior officer. "I tracked the General—"

"I've got it covered." The Major General said. "The General's gone rogue. He's betrayed the Council and is now an enemy of the Alliance."

"What?" She was utterly wrong-footed. "I just saw him over there," She pointed, "He's fighting someone or something…It's strong, whatever it is, and he needs help."

"I've got it covered, McCallister." He said lowly, dangerously. "You should go."

Tabaeus paused, uncomfortable with the weird look the Major General was giving her. It wasn't the deadpan, mildly annoyed expression he usually wore around her and the other soldiers. He looked…menacing. She took a half step away from him and glanced toward the smoky area where the General was still moving around out of sight.

"S-Sir, I really think—" She began.

He groaned loudly and rolled his eyes, "That's your problem, McCallister."

Before she could react, his fist smashed against her cheekbone. Taking off guard, she was knocked to the ground. She managed to keep the grip on her gun, but then he was wrestling her hands to her sides, shoving her over onto her stomach and snatching up her fallen gun for himself.

She struggled against him, but his grip was stronger, and when he dragged her to her feet, she toppled against him, unable to get her knees under her.

"You always overanalyze." He snarled in her ear. "You think too much and you just can't mind your own damn business." He pushed her forward, toward the smoky area. "But that's what ol' Squally trained you to do, I suppose."

Tabaeus's blood ran cold and she staggered shakily as he led her toward the beaten and battle-torn sect of the tunnels.

"You're not Major General Leonhart." She choked, his grip on her wrists and neck painful.

"That's a wonderful power of observation you have at your disposal, private." He sneered sarcastically. "Funny how it has blind spots for certain people."

The General was climbing out of the rubble when the Major General who wasn't the Major General pushed Tabaeus into view. Master Form was flickering out of juice on his person. He climbed to his feet, blood and dirt falling from him as he glared across the space at the imposter and Tabaeus.

"My, my, now we have a predicament." The man holding Tabaeus chuckled, lifting her gun in his free hand. "How will the game progress from here?"

Sora summoned the Keyblades Fatal Crest and Guardian Soul, holding them aloft threateningly. He looked murderous and more than capable of charging at them both. The man holding Tabaeus began to shift awkwardly behind her and she recoiled in disgust, not knowing what he was up to.

"Let her go." The General snarled. "This is between you and me. She has nothing to do with it."

"Oh, but she does." The other man cooed softly, and his breath was warm against Tabaeus's neck.

She grimaced and tried to wriggle free. When she looked back to spit in his face or headbutt him, she hadn't decided yet, it wasn't Major General Leonhart but the other Keybearer, Riku, sneering at her. He lifted the gun with a smirk and propped the barrel against Tabaeus's temple.

"She has everything to do with it." He said softly. He tilted his head so that his cheek was touching the top of her head. "Now, let's try to talk like civilized people, shall we?"

**..:-X-:..**

When the Gummi entered the airspace of Twilight Town, Leon knew immediately that something was off. Sitting forward in the pilot's seat, he gripped the steering controls and guided the ship through the lower atmosphere toward the small hangar by the train station.

"Wait, look over there." King Mickey pointed at the windshield, through which they could see a thin tower of smoke near the downtown area.

Leon followed his gesture and frowned, altering the direction of the Gummi and hesitating to extend the landing gear. No other commotion seemed to be taking place in the town, and Twilight Town wasn't a world to typically display columns of dust.

"What time is it?" Tifa asked, standing in the doorway to the cockpit behind them.

Leon looked further down at the town as the Gummi descended. The crowds were milling around on the streets like any other day. No one looked up as the Allied ship thundered into the civilian airspace. He started to look at the smoke again, but paused, squinting with more focus at the people.

They weren't moving.

"Guys, what time is it?" Tifa asked again.

It looked like the smoke was originating near the old tunnels in the downtown zone. Leon turned off the hangar-seeking procedure on the ship's controls and changed to manual flight trajectory, feeling the tug on the steering at the mild turbulence. The power lights across the control panel flickered.

"6:42." King Mickey answered. "Why?" He looked back to Tifa.

Leon didn't glance back to her, instead, turning the ship to arc toward the downtown.

"The clock tower." Tifa pointed out.

All three of them looked toward the old clocktower, the most recognizable structure on the world. The hands were immobile, stuck at what appeared to be 31 minutes past six o'clock.

Well, that explained the paralyzed crowds below, Leon mused inwardly, slowing the ship down as it descended rapidly toward the tunnels. The landing gear extended at the king's controls and the Gummi soon landed with a rough thud to the uneven cobblestone streets.

Tifa was heading for the side exit before Leon could walk out of the cockpit. She dropped to the ground and looked back to King Mickey.

"Can you conjure a spell strong enough to bring these people out of Stop?" She asked.

King Mickey clambered out after her. "You betcha."

"Then, while you're doing that—" Tifa looked to Leon.

He climbed down from the Gummi, drawing his gunblade as he did so. "We'll cover the tunnels."

"Block all the exits." She started.

He nodded. "Don't move in until we have radio contact." He tossed one of the radios to her.

She caught it and shoved it into her pocket as he strapped his to his belt.

"Got it." She said, turning and heading toward the north entrance.

"Tifa." He called out.

She spun around. "What?"

"Just—" He frowned and exhaled. "Nevermind."

She canted her head slightly, then turned and continued toward the entrance. He hesitated and rolled his eyes, aiming his shoulders toward the south entrance to the tunnels as King Mickey headed toward town to release the natives from their frozen states.

**..:-X-:..**

Sora held his Keyblades at his sides, glaring daggers at the leader of the Fractured Circle, who had gone back to his old friend Riku's form. He was holding McCallister in a lock against him, leaning her handgun against her temple. His eyes were that familiar ocean blue, but the cold, manipulative emotion behind them was alien. McCallister had stopped struggling against the man, and the blood was quickly draining from her face, leaving her pale and her eyes wide.

She looked terrified.

"Talk about what?" Sora snarled, shoulders hunched.

"There's a good lad." It was irksome hearing Riku's voice with such un-Rikulike mannerisms. Even more painful just hearing Riku's voice again at all. He tilted his head and eyed the Keyblades in Sora's hands. "Wouldn't want to damage this fine packaging." He trailed one finger across McCallister's jaw. "Although, considering your track record, I can't imagine this…soldier…would be of any loss to you."

She gritted her teeth and her nostrils flared at this humiliating gesture.

"Shut up and get to the point." Sora barked.

"The point, _General_, is that of poetic symmetry." He said airily. "You took everything I had and destroyed it, made a fool of me, and had me cast out, alone and wanted dead or alive." He smiled cruelly. "Consider this retribution." He applied more pressure to the gun barrel against McCallister's head.

Sora bristled but swallowed his fury for the mask of apathy. "There's nothing I have that you could destroy."

The shapeshifter's eyebrows shot up. "Too true." He held the gun away from McCallister, who deflated slightly with relief. "Your friends are dead, your allies want nothing to do with you, your princess is marrying another man, and your empire has fallen through your fingers…All because you have some sick way of 'protecting' them." He chuckled. "You don't need to be able to shapeshift to turn into someone that you're not."

Sora was getting tired of his psychological games. "Listen, shitface, I don't have anything worth losing. You have nothing to use against me."

"What about your little whore here?" He tilted the gun's neck against McCallister's throat. "Would a bullet in her head do anything for you?"

Sora exhaled heavily, hatred boiling in his chest. "Kill her, don't kill her: it doesn't matter. She's a soldier. There a thousand more exactly like her back in Radiant Garden. She's replaceable."

McCallister flinched at his words, closing her eyes. The shapeshifter smiled sadistically and shrugged. "All right. Have it your way—" His finger curled around the trigger.

Sora involuntarily took a step forward and his grip tightened on the Keyblades. The leader of the Fractured Circle noticed and his smile widened.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire." He said musically. "Thus we stalemate. You want me dead. I want to leave here alive. I have the bargaining chip." He looked down at McCallister and back to Sora.

"What are you proposing then?" Sora spat.

"A deal." He said in a silky voice. "A binding magical agreement. Like Hades', only with no loopholes." He held onto McCallister. "You break it, you buy it."

Fury crept into Sora's nerves and made his hands tremble slightly. "And the terms?"

The shapeshifter gave a mock-thinking look. "You banish the Keyblades, surrendering all ability to summon them, wield them, use them to unlock your front door, and I will let her live."

Sora gritted his teeth, "That's a high price for one life."

"Well," He lifted his shoulders, "If you think it's TOO high—" He pushed the gun against her head.

Sora growled. "If I give up the ability to summon the Keyblade, you won't hurt her."

He smiled unpleasantly. "You banish the Keyblades, and I won't spill a single drop of her blood. Those will be the terms."

Sora opened his palms. The Keyblades vanished obediently in twin flashes of light. "Why the Keyblades? Are they the only thing that can kill you?"

"Don't be so naïve." He sneered. "I have bigger things to worry about besides self preservation. No…" He stepped to the side, pulling McCallister with him. She helplessly stumbled after him. "To be a General with no followers, a warrior with no damsel to save, a Keybearer with no Keyblade…Is there a greater humiliation to you?"

"You son of a—" Sora glared. "You think the Alliance isn't going to hunt you down? I wasn't the only one who heard Franks spill about your location. The others will bring reinforcements. I bet Tifa has half the Allied military outside these tunnels right now."

"Ah, but you don't know for certain." He taunted. "And if they are or they aren't, their presence holds no power over this right here." He waved his gun hand in a gesture between them. "So, do we have a deal?" He switched the gun to his other hand, aiming it at McCallister again and offering his free hand.

Sora took three long strides to close the gap between them. "Not a drop of her blood."

"And not a Keyblade in sight." The shapeshifter added.

"Fine." Sora stuck out his hand, mind still calculating through the implications.

"Fine." He leered.

"No!" McCallister cried out, but the leader of the Fractured Circle reached out and took his hand.

As their palms slapped together, the shapeshifter clasped his fingers around Sora's in a solid grasp. Sora was revolted to be touching this monster, but he held on, squeezing back doubly hard. There didn't seem to be some fancy procedure to concrete the agreement. The magic wasn't flashy or dramatic like Hades or Ursula's. A handshake was all it took, apparently.

The leader looked nauseatingly pleased with himself and he backed away from Sora as soon as the deal was done, dragging McCallister with him.

"All right, now, you call your fancy sword, and she's open season. Likewise, one drop of her blood, and you get your flashy weapon back." He chirped.

Sora took a step toward him as he retreated toward one of the remaining exit ways.

"Until next time, then." The shapeshifter lowered the gun and shoved McCallister forward into Sora's arms. As he melted into the shadows, his body began to morph back into Cloud Strife's form.

McCallister crashed into Sora and he waited until she regained her balance before abruptly moving away from her.

"Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't—" She stammered.

He cast her an icy look. This was her fault. If she hadn't followed him, he wouldn't have had to give up the Keyblade. That bastard shapeshifter would be dead right now if she hadn't gotten involved. Why he felt compelled to save her…It didn't matter: she had cost him more than she was worth.

"The others—Lockhart and…" McCallister babbling.

Sora's gears jarred back into motion. The way Tifa had looked at him after he attacked Franks, when he summoned that dark portal…She wasn't going to get him go after this. Between her and Leon's influence, he'd be surprised if he wasn't exiled from the Alliance now. If he was truly honest with himself, he couldn't blame them for that…but he wasn't, so he just narrowed his eyes and lifted a hand.

Another dark portal morphed into existence behind him and he glared at McCallister.

"Do not follow me." He growled.

McCallister held her arms about herself, looking guilty and pitiful. "Yes, sir."

His gut churned at the pathetic look she was giving him, but he steeled himself and stepped into the portal, disappearing from the tunnels and Twilight Town all together.

**..:-X-:..**

Tifa found the tunnel entrances on Sunset Hill, outside the alleyway, and at the Train Station and blocked them off. By the time she reached the entrance that was sitting pretty in the middle of the town, the militarized Gummi Ships from Radiant Garden were arriving, swooping in low and landing around King Mickey's ship.

Leon or the king must have contacted the soldiers in the ships, because as soon as they landed, she saw the uniforms en masse spread out toward all the entrances that she and Leon had covered. Reaching the main entrance in the middle of town, she lifted the radio to her lips.

"Done." She said into the receiver.

Static crackled over and then Leon's voice cut in. "Same here. Five units are covering the open ways in and out. What's your location?"

"Main town entrance." She answered. "You?"

"Not too far away. The king is ordering the troops. Stay there. I'm on my way." He replied.

Tifa hung the radio on her wrist and looked into the main entrance. She hadn't heard anything about Sora or Tabaeus or if the leader was even really there. But there had been so much commotion and tunnel collapses since they'd arrived that…something had to be going on.

Footsteps echoed out of the tunnel and she squinted at the shadows. She raised her fists and prepared herself for whatever friend or foe was about to emerge. The foot falls drew closer and she narrowed her eyes. If it was Sora, she was going to give him a royal kick in the ass for this wild goose chase. Maybe at least the leader was finally dead and they could move on with their liv—

The blond, Mako-eyed soldier that sprinted out of the tunnel was as far from anyone she'd been expecting imaginable. Paralysis stronger than any Stop Spell seeped through her nerves and muscles, and horror and shock leeched into her brain.

No. No, no, no, nonononono…Not possible.

He took hardly any notice of her as he ran out. This was wrong. It wasn't right. He was…It wasn't him, but it looked so agonizingly like him…But as he hurried past, the stride was different, the posture was strange, and the stance was wrong. But the resemblance was enough to nearly send her into hyperventilation.

"H-Hey…" She managed to choke out.

He looked back and a twisted smile curved his lips. "I do hope you'll excuse me. I simply don't have time to deal with YOU right now." Then he turned back around and continued to run.

Story of my life, she thought, her knees wavering where she stood.

"Tifa!" Leon called out behind her, but she couldn't turn around.

He took two steps past her, watching Cloud's doppelganger make a getaway. As he called up an alarm and sent a squad after him, Tifa could only see that blond hair and feel pain lance through her chest.

"Are you all right?" Leon asked, though they both knew how ridiculous of a question that was.

"Sir, ma'am!" One of the colonels hurried over and saluted. "We're pursuing the…the shapeshifter…but we're also searching the tunnels and there's no sign of the General."

"There's no one down there?" Tifa asked breathlessly while Leon looked at her in concern.

The colonel shook his head, "Just Private McCallister, but she's shaken up and won't say anything about what happened."

Tifa and Leon exchanged a look. The emotional trauma that had just slapped her in the face was still too fresh as she looked at Leon. Cloud's face was still superimposed over Leon's, and she absolutely hated herself for that.

Leon looked away first, nodding to the colonel, who led them into the side of the tunnel where the authorities had deposited Tabaeus, draping a blanket around her shoulders. She looked pale as chalk and her eyes were wide and bloodshot. Gunshots echoed in the direction that Cl—that the shapeshifter had fled, but Tifa kept her gaze on Tabaeus, who easily could have collapsed at that moment.

"McCallister." Leon said, reaching the private first.

The soldier looked up at him and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"Tabaeus." Tifa said more gently, standing beside Leon.

"I…I couldn't—" Tabaeus stammered. "He had a gun…and the General—he left."

Leon put a hand on the woman's shoulder. "It's okay. You're all right. Relax."

Tifa bit her lip. Tabaeus looked so traumatized, but she wasn't sure what from: the shapeshifter, the battle, or Sora's abandonment of her.

Whichever it was, Tifa empathized with her.


	12. Alone

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters, or storyline. This story is mine, as are McCallister, and the members of the Fractured Circle.**

**Huzzah! I finally got the last chapter posted! School is about to eat me alive, but I feel accomplished in that I got this done. I kept changing bits and pieces, because, dammit, I knew how I wanted it to end but it just wouldn't mesh!**

**Big hugs and thanks to everybody who read and reviewed! I can't promise when I'll get the third installment posted, but be on the lookout anyway! It'll be titled **_**Silver Bullet to the Heart**_**.**

**Musical muse for this chapter was **_**Renegade**_** by Styx, which I don't own, nor do I have any affiliation with.**

**Constructive criticism welcome! Enjoy!**

**..:-X-:..**

**Chapter Twelve: Alone**

"By the power vested in me, by the Republic of Destiny Islands and by God, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Sir, you may kiss your bride." The holy man said, smiling and clasping his hands.

Tanner couldn't have been smiling any wider as he faced Kairi, on whom his eyes had been glued for the entire ceremony. He looked so funny in his fancy suit and tie and his hair parted unusually. It was adorable. Kairi smiled at him and met him halfway. They kissed deeply and the small crowd on the beach applauded. Some of Tanner's friends hollered and made a victorious ruckus.

Her mom and dad were both in joyous tears when the newlyweds faced their friends and family. Selphie was practically bawling, leaning on one of the groomsmen. Kairi looked back to Tanner.

"Well, now you're stuck with me." She lifted their hands, her fingers intertwined with his.

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "No place else I'd rather be."

The wedding tune began to chime from the sound system farther up the beach, and the couple made their way down the aisle, past their friends and family as the clapping followed them. Several people threw handfuls of rice over them.

Kairi tried to refrain from using Selphie's hopelessly romantic tropes, but she had to agree with her on this one, as Tanner's hand in hers led her up the beach.

This was the best day of her life.

**..:-X-:..**

Radios and news broadcasts across the Alliance were working overtime, bombarding the public with the latest news.

"The Council of the Alliance met this morning in an emergency meeting in Disney Castle…"

"Some sources are indicating a phenomenal increase in Major General Leonhart's popularity as the stocks invested in the Alliance begin a downward spiral…"

"Radiant Garden has been put on political lockdown as the Council decides the fate of the position of General…"

"Sora's whereabouts remain unknown at this time…"

**..:-X-:..**

King Mickey stood outside the Council meeting hall in Disney Castle. He was not looking forward to the mess he was about to face. And he was facing it alone. Tifa had dropped off the map not long after they reunited in Radiant Garden after the incident. Leon was overseeing the proceedings in his home world, and Tabaeus was in no state to be facing anything.

So he was by himself for this one.

At one point, four Keybearers had fought for the safety of Kingdom Hearts: Riku, Kairi, Sora, and King Mickey. Now Riku was gone, Kairi had left the effort to make her own life, and Sora had betrayed them all and was being forced into exile.

And so King Mickey found himself standing in his palace, in his massive hallway, lingering outside the ominous oak doors, bracing himself to face a chaos that would have made Dante Alighieri shudder, and he was the last one. The last Keybearer.

He hung his head and pushed open the door, walking inside to join the Council.

**..:-X-:..**

Destiny Islands hadn't changed, but it felt like a completely different world from the home where he'd grown up. The colors felt too bright, the air too clear, and the sky so softly blue it hurt the eyes. The cool afternoon breeze drifted through the densely packed green canopies overhead, making every individual blade of grass sway in a mellow dance. The ridge high above the main beach felt more like a woodland forest than the reserve on a tropical island.

Sora stood under the shade of one of the trees. From his position at the corner of the local cemetery, he had a bird's eye view of the beach down below. The sand, all sorts of colors, caught every ray of sunlight from the afternoon horizon. The waves perpetually beat down on the beach, swathing the waterline in salty foam. It was like a picture from a postcard…or something like that.

The wedding party was receding from the beach, following the bride and groom as they paraded toward the…horse-drawn carriage…It looked too frilly and ribbon-strewn to be anybody's touch other than Selphie's. The crowd was throwing rice and laughing and clapping…and it absolutely should have made Sora's skin crawl.

But then he saw Kairi, her smile and her elegantly curled hair and her bright eyes, and everything looked perfect…except for the man on her arm. The newlywed couple waved and blew kisses at the crowd. Sora hadn't seen her that happy in years…not that he had ever really bothered to look. As the procession continued to move, he looked back at the cemetery.

Riku's headstone was even giving him the cold shoulder. Sora closed his eyes briefly and frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets and glaring down at the beach again.

_Take care of her._

An easy thing to ask of him in the short run. The long run was a tougher bitch.

"I tried." He murmured under his breath.

If the Fractured Circle hadn't attacked…

If everyone was still alive…

If the leader hadn't escaped…

If McCallister had done her job right in the first place…

If Sora had done his job right in the first place…

If Sora was still…all here…

Maybe things would have turned out differently.

Sora exhaled heavily and tore his eyes away from Kairi and her new husband, looking instead to his hand. His artificial fingers were fried and unresponsive after sustaining that Thunder Spell. His body was still aching from the battle, though a few elixirs had easily mended him. Narrowing his eyes, he opened his palm demandingly.

The Keyblade didn't appear.

He focused harder, staring at the lines and creases on his hand. His palm remained empty and nothing happened. Cursing, he dropped his hand and looked out to the horizon. Whatever binding magic that bastard had laid on him, it was powerful enough to be unbreakable, at least on Sora's end. Whether the nameless shapeshifter could skip out on his end of the agreement was impossible to know.

Why Sora had allowed himself to be suckered into such a dumbass proposition was beyond him.

It didn't matter now.

Everything was royally fucked.

Because the Fractured Circle did attack…

Everyone did die…

The leader had escaped….

McCallister hadn't done her job right in the first place…

Sora hadn't done his job right in the first place…

And Sora was definitely not 'all here'…

So things had turned out exactly as they had.

And no curse words or arrest warrants could change that.

**..:-X-:..**

Corbin Franks sat on the edge of the Gummi Ship's cargo floor, legs hanging out of the open hatch as he looked across the beach where the waves of Atlantica landed. He plucked the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled, watching the smoke curl out of his lips and nose and get swept away by the salty breeze. He checked his watch.

10:32 a.m. Radiant Garden time. That translated roughly to 4:32 a.m. Atlantica time. Hence the pre-dawn light twinkling on the horizon. It was just barely beginning to differentiate between the sky and the sea off in the distance. Rendezvous time, according to the last text message he had received, was 5 o'clock. He had no idea WHAT time zone the boss was on, so better safe than sorry.

Several Gummi Ships had zoomed overhead in the past hour, all looking like large shooting stars, but none of them had the Alliance's insignia on them. All private or tourism ships. That was probably why the boss had chosen this candy-coated world to rendezvous on: it was packed full of weirdos with cameras and horrendous t-shirts. It would be easy enough to blend in.

"I take it the Alliance's prison hospitality leaves much to be desired?" A cooing voice called.

Franks looked to his right to see the spitting image of Private Tabaeus McCallister sauntering toward him. Alarm flashed up his spine for a moment, but then he relaxed and took another puff on his cigarette.

"Your taste in disguise is deteriorating." He commented, looking up the beach again. No one else was in sight for miles of shoreline.

The clone of McCallister shrugged as he approached, giving the Gummi Ship that Franks had managed to…acquire…a hard onceover. "As has your taste in transportation."

Franks grumbled under his breath and blew out more smoke. "The Alliance still hasn't released any kind of physical description for you."

The leader of the Fractured Circle let out a dark laugh. "I'd imagine not." He climbed up into the ship. "It's all part of the plan."

"And just how long were you 'planning' on letting me rot in that jail? That crazy shit-faced Keybearer nearly killed me." Franks snapped back.

"Don't be dramatic. I always have a plan." The boss beckoned. "Come. We have work to do."

Franks looked dubious, but just sighed, tossed his cigarette out into the sand, and climbed into the cockpit. "What kind of work?"

The leader of the Fractured Circle didn't answer, just punched the new coordinates for their destination into the Gummi's control panel.

**..:-X-:..**

Most of the boxes by the door were full and taped shut, but there were still a few bags in disarray on the couch. Leon just stood there, staring at the cardboard and plastic containers that had been stabbing at his brain for the last five minutes. He wasn't usually a drinker, but a dark glass bottle had found its way to his hand, and it wasn't Hi-Potion.

Tifa walked out of her bedroom, the latest and last stack of clothes in her arms. Neither of them said a word as she carried the stack to the open duffel bag on the couch. She unceremoniously stuffed them in and worked the material around so that she could zip it closed. He watched her mildly, lifting the bottle to his lips a number of times, but never really taking a drink.

There was no talking at all as she set about packing every single one of her belongings in the boxes, and there weren't many, and he stood there, leaning against the doorframe, watching her like he had nothing more important to do…and maybe he didn't. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Then all of her bags were packed and the rented van outside was waiting.

"So that's it, huh?" Leon broke the silence.

Tifa nearly flinched, only half turned toward him as she checked her last bag for the third time. "I guess it is."

"You really think this is going to change anything? Running away?" He said.

She straightened, facing him fully. "I'm not running away."

He pointed his bottle toward the luggage. "Those boxes contradict you."

She narrowed her remaining eye. "Why are you pissed at me? From all the news I've been hearing, you're big ol' number one in the Alliance now, Leon…or should I call you General?"

He frowned, "I turned them down. You know me better than that. I thought I knew you better than this." He gestured absently to the luggage.

Her gaze sharpened, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just pointing out the irony." He said contemptuously. "You complained about Cloud always running out and not facing his problems. Now you're just turning around and doing the same damn thing."

She bristled. "You son of a…This—" She gave a wild double-armed gesture. "Is not my problem. I tried to help, I really did, but everything I advised against, you guys just seemed to do anyway."

"Like what?" He straightened now as well.

She held up her fingers. "I saw Sora going downhill MONTHS before the dark magic. I said we should stop him, but NO, we had to just see how it all unraveled. I wanted to stop that ludicrous election before he usurped the General position, but NO, we just stood by and…tolerated it…I'm done tolerating this bullshit."

"Fine." Leon hissed, "So this is all my fault, huh? Everything is screwed to Hell because I don't possess this godlike intuition that you seem blessed with?"

Tifa gawked incredulously at him. "That is not what I said—"

"Fine." He abruptly looked away.

She drew herself up. "Fine."

Picking up some of her bags for the first run to the van, she nudged the door open and glared daggers back at him. He didn't say anything, staring hard at the couch instead of her. This was about her and her problems, not with him. So why did it feel like abandonment…again? His arm lifted the alcohol to his lips again, but he didn't tilt the bottle enough to drink anything. Lashing out at her wasn't going to convince her to stay, but it was relieving to yell at someone regardless.

She stepped out into the hallway, adjusting the shoulder strap on her bag. "I'm sorry." She didn't sound like it. "Good luck with everything."

"Good luck in Thebes." He said hollowly.

They exchanged an uncomfortable look across an uncomfortable silence, and then Tifa made a shrugging gesture.

"I'm going." She announced.

He tried to appear nonchalant, eyes narrow. "Then go." He said lowly.

She pursed her lips. "I'm gone."

Then she closed the door after herself and she was gone. She would have to come back up at least three times to get all of her stuff out, but Leon couldn't bring himself to help her move, to help her get out of his life, to help her leave him stranded in this mess by himself.

"Shit." He muttered, staring at the door.

A beat passed.

Realizing the alcohol was still hovering by his jaw, he started to lower his arm. Before he could set it down, however, he suddenly reared back, clutched the bottle tightly, and threw it against the wall. The glass shattered with a loud pop. Beer splattered over the wall and ran down to the wood floor with shards of dark colored glass.

**..:-X-:..**

The temperature continued to drop as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Sora inhaled deeply, watching the rest of the wedding procession leave the beach far from the ridge where he was loitering. The more time passed, the more he couldn't decide what to do, where to go, or how to go about it. Travelling via dark portal wasn't the most pleasant experience, but Destiny Islands didn't exactly keep Gummi Ships in stock. By now, half of the Allied worlds would be under the impression that he was the enemy now, if Tifa had any say in it. He wasn't sure he completely disagreed with her, but he couldn't bother to care at the moment. Without the Council hounding after his every decision, he had much more freedom in how to go about hunting down the leader of the Fractured Circle.

His cell phone chirped in his pocket and he started to pull it out, but his mechanical fingers got caught in the material. He cursed and reached around with his left hand, tugging the phone out and flipping it open as it rang again.

He narrowed his eyes and hesitated, frowning at the screen. It was McCallister's number. Anger boiled up in his chest but he answered anyway, holding it up to his ear.

"This better be good." He growled.

He heard her draw in a breath on the other end and pursed his lips.

"Teams have been sent out to track you down…bring you in…Head Council's orders." Her voice trembled and Sora flinched.

He grunted in response.

She continued. "They're calling for your arrest and the Major General's promotion to your position—"

"He won't." Sora shook his head.

"R-right…" McCallister stammered. "Brigadier General Lockhart isn't saying anything. I don't know why she—" She cut herself off. "There should be a Gummi Ship with supplies waiting in the Cove—"

"What?" Sora straightened, blinking in surprise.

"—All tracking devices have been removed." She went on.

"How did you know—"

"What don't I know about you, sir?"

Sora pursed his lips and rubbed his eyes in annoyance. "Why?"

"Sir…"

"Nevermind, I don't care." He snapped, climbing down the ridge and leaving the cemetery, crossing to the old cove on the main island.

As he looked down into it, sure enough he could see a small, unmarked Gummi Ship sitting in the shadow of the cliff. Perplexed, he looked up into the cloudless sky. How had she even managed to get a ship, however small this one was, through the Destiny Islands airspace without raising an alarm among the natives? Gratitude started to threaten his icy exterior, but he choked it back down.

She was just trying to make up for making him lose the Keyblade. She was sucking up, trying to get back into his good graces. It wouldn't work. She had fucked everything up. If she hadn't interfered…

"This doesn't change anything. I don't need your help." He snarled.

The end of the line was quiet a moment, followed by a soft "Yes you do."

"What?" He snapped.

"You do need my help…So shut up and take it." She snapped back, but there wasn't any real heat behind her words.

Sora narrowed his eyes. "This doesn't change what happened, so don't try it." He hung up the phone and swallowed the anger that he wanted to direct at her, but the aim ricocheted and he groaned in exasperation before walking over to the Gummi. At least he had one ally. For now.

**..:-X-:..**

Tabaeus slid the typing pad of her phone closed and tossed it into the chair beside her. Biting on her fingernail, she looked out from her solitary position on the roof of her apartment building in the sparsely populated residential district of Radiant Garden. The sun had set hours ago, and besides the night patrol and a few night owls, the street lamps lining the block corners revealed only empty sidewalk.

Turning her back on the view, she blankly glanced across the barren rooftop. She was alone, joined only by the whirring ventilation fans and some naked piping. Her cell phone was quiet, receiving no call or reply text. This did not surprise her. She had really done it now. She could tolerate the cold indifference and the misplaced aggression. She could handle the apathy and his complete lack of compassion for her.

But to be hated…For something that was beyond her control. For something that wasn't her fault.

Did the Gen—Did Sora truly _hate_ her for what had happened? That was something she didn't know how to handle. She didn't deserve to be hated. She deserved better.

Lowering her eyes to the box in front of her, she sank down to her backside on the cold concrete of the roof. The King of Disney Castle was still in council with the other representatives. Major General Leonhart was back in Radiant Garden, but the Brigadier General had left…Tabaeus had seen her drive away a few hours earlier. She wasn't sure what was going on with that, but the more pressing matter was that several military squads had been dispatched to hunt down Sora.

He had no allies and no friends, no one to turn to and no help from anyone. And where she should have kicked his ass to the curb, spat at him, and said 'good riddance', she was…helping the bastard. Grimacing, she reached forward and removed the lid on the box. She drew a slow breath and pulled out one of the carefully folded wads of paper. She unfolded it until the creased form of the origami crane sat on her palm, the number 488 scrawled under one of the wings.

Every single paper crane that she had ever numbered was folded and neatly packed into the box, laughing up at her mockingly. They all seemed to glower the same thing to her: you fool, you pathetic, weak, naïve fool.

Swallowing, she pulled the cigarette lighter out of her pocket and struck it to life with her thumb. The flame flickered brightly in the night air. She pursed her lips and her jaw clenched as she tilted the wing of the crane into the flame. The paper immediately caught and darkened as it singed, letting the fire crawl onto the wing and quickly climb across to the body, down the tail and up the neck, until she was just holding a handful of fire.

Exhaling heavily, she dropped the flaming mass into the box of waiting cranes.

Maybe she was a fool for falling in love with him. Maybe she was pathetic, weak, and naïve. Maybe she was insane for thinking that he had any room left in his complicated and broken soul for her. But no longer would she be a fool trying to earn anything from him. From that point on, she would help him, but only for…for what? The heat made tears prickle at her eyes as the fire ate through the hundreds of cranes she had spent the last two years painstakingly folding. Sora might not be a Heartless, but he sure knew how to act like one. And she was following him like a fool.

She hugged her knees to herself, watching the cranes burn. She had been over halfway to that magical 1000 paper cranes…over 700…But the whole purpose of that hobby was gone. On the run.

Besides, there was no point in wishing love from a person with no heart.

**..:-X-:..**

Static continued to crackle over Allied radio, followed by a stream of reports: "Leader of the organization known as the Fractured Circle is still at large after a failed blockade in Twilight Town…"

"—has revoked all authority from the General Keybearer, stripping him of all rank and power…"

"Corbin Franks has escaped Allied custody and sources say the military has no leads as to his location…"

"The public is in uproar over this scandal and many are calling for the immediate arrest of the ex-General of the Alliance and former hero of Kingdom Hearts…"


End file.
